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THE 



YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND 



CONTAINING 

ADMONITIONS FOR THE ERRING, COUNSEL FOR THE 
TEMPTED, HOPE FOR- THE FALLEN. 

DESIGNED FOE 

The Young Man, 

The Husband, \; 



And. the Father. 



By DANIEL c/EDDY, D.D., 
u 

PASTOE OF THE BALDWIN PLACE CHURCH, BOSTON. 



I have written unto you, young men, because ye are strong. John. 



NEW EDITION. 



BOSTON: 

HORACE WENTWORTH, 
119 Washington Street. 



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Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by 

HORACE WENTWOETH, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



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PKEFACE 



^^^HIS volume is given to the public, by the advice of 
Jrm some of the author's most judicious friends, who 
\f J cherish the hope that it may be the means of 
shielding. the young from crime and leading them 
to the practice of virtue and the pursuit of holiness. 

The lectures were originally delivered to a large congre- 
gation of young men, and it has been thought best, that the 
direct, personal appeal of the pulpit should be retained, and 
such alterations only, made, as would adapt them to general 
circulation. 

The object of the book is, to impress upon the minds of 
young men, such lessons of virtue as will render them useful 
and successful in life, and by presenting the old Puritan 
view of sinful pleasures, lead the reader to cultivate the old 
Puritan integrity. 

While innocent amusements have been encouraged, dan- 
gerous amusements have been condemned, and the mind 

(?) 



8 PREFACE. 

directed to healthy, reasonable sources of recreation, which 
have been furnished so amply by nature and by God — 
amusements which embrace utility with recreation, and 
pleasure with profit. 

An effort has been made to blend instruction with exhor- 
tation — encouragement with warning, and by holding up, 
side by side, the woes of vice and the rewards of virtue, 
lead the young to hate the one, and love the other. 

The earnest wish, and fervent prayer of the author is, 
that the work may do good, and prove a source of profit 
to the young men into whose hands it may chance to fall. 



CONTENTS, 



LECTURE I. 

THE ELEMENTS OP A MANLY COURSE. 

PAGE 

Wealth, birth, intellect, do not constitute manliness. An 
effort for the promotion of virtue. An interest in the eleva- 
tion of the race. Submission to the demands of God. . 13 

LECTURE II. 

YOUTH ; ITS ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 

Formation of character. Napoleon. Doddridge. Baxter. 
The mistakes of youth. The ardor of youth. Youth is a 
period of great results. Alexander. Cortes. Bacon. New- 
ton. Pitt. Calvin. Melancthon. Pope. Dwight. Adams. 35 

LECTURE III. 

FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Industry. Dignity of labor. Uses of labor. Frugality. Small 
expenses. Temperance. Illustrations. Honesty. Worth 
of character. The rewards of honesty. . . . .57 

(9) 



10 CONTENTS. 

LECTURE IV. 

INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 

Need of recreation. Causes of the failure to secure amuse- 
ment. Utility must be combined with pleasure. Useful 
reading. Music. Travelling. Literary Lectures. Social 
visiting. Social gatherings. Paintings, and other works of 
art. Public and private worship 80 

LECTURE V. 

DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 

The theatre. Dancing. Gambling. Social drinking. Objec- 
tions to them. They abuse time. Destroy health. Lead 
to prodigality. They are heart-corrupting. They are soul- 
destroying 104 

LECTURE VI. 

WEALTH AND FAME. 

They are fluctuating and uncertain. Louis XVI. Marie An- 
toinette. Napoleon. Louis Philippe. Pius IX. They fail 
to secure happiness. Rich and poor men. They lead to 
crime if unreasonably loved. They are as brief as life. 
Saladin. Philip 128 

LECTURE VII. 

GAMBLING. 

A system of prodigality. It excites, intoxicates, and maddens 
the brain. It is the highway to idleness. It is a system of 
falsehood — of theft. It nullifies the marriage relation. 
Produces confusion in families. Instances of its effects. 
Leads to intemperance. Destroys kind and tender feel- 
ings. Corrupts society. Illustrations. .... 152 



CONTENTS. 11 

LECTURE VIII. 

INTEMPERANCE. 

Produces poverty. Ruins the constitution. Destroys domes- 
tic felicity. Produces idiocy and madness. Excludes from 
heaven. Cases to illustrate. A plea to young men. . . 175 

LECTURE IX. 

THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 

The probability and certainty of it. The confessions of as- 
sociates. The power of memory. The upbraidings of 
conscience. The providence of God. The bed of death. 
Every sin seen by God. The coming judgment. Illustra- 
tions of these truths. Concluding appeal 200 

LECTURE X. 

THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 

In all life's duties. Duties to ourselves — to kindred and 
friends — to fellow-men — to -government — to God. A 
guide in cases of danger — from error — from crime — from 
sin — from misery. Good and great men have loved the 
Bible. It has claims as a book of history and poetry. It 
is a divine revelation. 219 



PUBLISHERS' NOTICE. 



In editions prior to 1866, we published, of the four following books, 
more than one hundred and forty thousand of the " Young Man's 
Friend; " of the " Young Woman's Friend," published four years 
later, over fifty thousand; more than one hundred thousand of the 
" Angel Whispers," and seventy-five thousand of the " Heroines 
of the Church," under another title. We now propose arranging 
these works in sets, uniform in size and style of binding. The 
"Heroines of the Church" has been republished in England and 
Holland, and many thousands sold. Rev. Dr. Cumming, of London, 
in editing the English edition of this work, says : " This little volume 
appears to me likely to enlarge and augment the labors of Christian 
females, to evince to the Church of Christ their value, and the duty 
of availing herself of their precious resources yet more extensively, 
and to make us more deeply grateful to God that his grace has raised 
up for us Christian females, notwithstanding our insensibility to their 
worth, who have proved themselves examples of tenderness, zeal, 
and successful missionary exertions." 



THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 



LECTURE I. 



THE ELEMENTS OP A MANLY COUTtSE. 
Show thyself a man. 1 Kings, ii. 2. 

/ f?|**'HIS was a part of the royal David's dying 
gm charge to Solomon his son. The monarch 
^^^ minstrel was about to be gathered to his 
fathers, the door of the sepulchre was 
open for him, and his grave clothes were ready. 
The crown he had already placed upon the head 
of his youngest son, and as he stood with one foot 
in the grave, and one upon the crumbling shores 
of time, he enjoined with all a father's solicitude, 
the performance of those duties and the observance 
of those rules, which were well calculated to ren- 
der his government perpetual, and his name illus- 
trious. He exhorted him, not to show himself a 

(13) 



14 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

warrior merely — not a statesman merely — not a 
monarch merely, but a man — possessing the gener- 
ous impulses of a man, and displaying a manly nature 
in all his intercourse with men. So Solomon under- 
stood him, and his government became the admiration 
of the world, his fame spread through all nations, 
and the proudest monarchs of the earth came to be- 
hold his glory, and the magnificence of his kingdom. 
While others reigned as kings, and ruled as tyrants, 
he governed as a man, having common sympathies 
with those above whom he had been elevated by birth 
and blood. 

In our times, there are various and contradictory 
opinions cherished, in regard to what constitutes a 
manly course. It is not every one that wears a hu- 
man form that can claim to be a man, in the full sense 
of that term, though he may prove his connection with 
the human race. Many live and move among us 
who are destitute of the chief elements of a manly 
character. They suppose themselves men indeed — 
they regard their own course as honorable and worthy 
of imitation. The gambler has his code of honor ; 
the duellist has his code of honor ; the soldier red in 
blood has his code of honor. Napoleon was an hon- 
orable man in his way, and the world ascribed to him 
many great and noble qualities. He fought well, and 
conquered well. His banner waved in triumph over 
many a bloody field ; carnage, and famine, and 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 15 

death attended his steps, and like the genius of evil 
he stalked abroad. He was, doubtless, a splendid 
general and a brilliant emperor ; but the child who 
wandered over the field after his most triumphant 
charge, and wet with water the lips of the dying sol- 
dier there, was far more exalted in the scale of 
being, than was the plumed and epauletted chief- 
tain. 

Nelson was a skilful officer, and died as the world 
says, " in all his glory." His banner was his shroud ; 
the roar of cannon was his dirge, and the shout of 
victory was his requiem. In the history of naval 
heroes, his name stands foremost, and they who love 
the navy, have learned to honor him. But the poor 
sailor, who a few months since in yonder distant city, 
braved the fire, and at the risk of his own life saved 
a mother's only child, gained a truer glory than ever 
shone around the victories of the distinguished admiral. 

How false — how unjust the estimate which the 
world places upon the actions of men. He who dies 
upon the battle field — who rushes to carnage and to 
strife — whose hands are dripping with human gore, 
is a man of honor. Parliaments and senates return 
him thanks, and whole nations unite in erecting a 
monument over the spot where sleeps his corpse. 
But he whose task it is, to dry up the stream of blood, 
— to mitigate the anguish of earth, — to lift man up, 
and make him what (rod designed him to be, dies 



16 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

without a tongue to speak his eulogy, or a monument 
to mark his fall. That only is truly honorable which 
does good to the body or the soul of man — which contri- 
butes to human happiness, or promotes the glory of God. 
He shows himself a man, and he only, who sacrifices 
his own interests that he may benefit others — who 
lives unknown to fame that he may bind up some 
broken heart — who lays his own honor and happiness, 
and even life itself, upon the altar of a common hu- 
manity. 

My reader, would you show yourself a man, go not 
to yonder tented field, where death hovers, and the 
vulture feasts himself upon human victims ! Go not 
where men are carving monuments of marble to per- 
petuate names which will not five in one grateful 
memory ! Go not to the dwellings of the rich ! Go 
not to the palaces of kings ! Go not to the halls of 
merriment and pleasure ! Go to the widow and re- 
lieve her woe : Go to the orphan and speak words 
of comfort : Go to the lost and save him : Go to 
the fallen and raise him up : Go to the wanderer 
and bring him back to virtue : Go to the sinner and 
whisper in his ears words of salvation and eternal life. 

The true object of life has scarcely begun to be un- 
derstood In past ages men have been attracted by 
the glitter and show of conquest, and worldly pre- 
dominance. They have pursued the phantom, while 
the real and the substantial have been sacrificed. 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 17 



* 



They have aimed at the accomplishment of objects, 
which have resulted in no good to the world. They 
have built up systems of monstrous wrong. They 
have strengthened the dominion of human cruelty and 
labored more to crush the race than to lift it up. 
Self has been the common centre, and around it the 
universe has been made to revolve like systems around 
their suns. What, then, are the elements of true 
manliness ? 

Wealth is not one. In a multitude of cases the 
possessor of the largest fortune, and the widest terri- 
tory, has been found to have views and feelings not 
at all in proportion to the magnitude of his fortune. 
There is a contingency about wealth which has nothing 
to do with moral or intellectual character. It seems 
to be rained upon the human family by a capricious 
goddess, who distributes her favors according to rules 
known only to herself. At one time a monarch is 
her favorite, and his throne she studs with jewels, and 
fills his crown with richest diamonds. At his feet she 
spreads out broad fields — well cultivated vineyards 
— beautiful temples and shining towers, and as his 
admiring eye gazes over the scene, she whispers in 
his ear, — " These are thine ! " At another time she 
fixes her eye upon a beggar boy, as he asks for food 
from house to house, repulsed everywhere. His hand 
she takfes, and leads him up, as if by magic through 
the various grades of society until she establishes him 

2 



18 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

in a palace, and fills his coffers with' the shining gold. 
Fair cheeked young men have sought to win her 
smile, but sought in vain, while she has turned from 
them to bestow her gifts upon some unsightly being, 
on whom God's curse seems to have fallen. The in- 
telligent — the virtuous — the brave — • the wise, 
have knelt at her altar, and breathed their supplica- 
tions, but she has spurned them away and beckoned 
with friendly hand, to sordid ignorance and vice. 
Hence we find that wealth gives us no clue to charac- 
ter — furnishes us with no criterion by which we may 
measure the soul, and judge of the dimensions of the 
man himself. 

Birth and blood are not elements of true manliness. 
Royal veins are often found to flow with plebeian 
streams, and crime and duplicity as often disgrace the 
palace of the monarch, as the hovel of the slave. 
Caesar was a monarch. Blood of which after ages 
loved to boast, flowed through his princely temples. 
A crown was on his brow — the imperial crown. At 
the foot of his throne proud nations nestled, and o'er 
all the earth his banner waved ; but was Caesar a 
man? had he a manly character? was his bosom 
thrilled by manly emotions? No. Nero's heart 
swelled with the blood of emperors. Rome acknowl- 
edged him as her sovereign ; but was he a man ? No. 
Nero and Caesar were both monarchs, but they were 
not men in the noblest sense. No living link con- 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 19 

nocted them with the great heart of humanity. They 
were on earth — they ate and drank and slept like 
other men — they wore the human form, but aside 
from this, they moved like demons through the earth, 
smiting its flowers and withering its verdure. When 
they descended from the living to the dead, a mighty 
incubus was removed from the crushed form of hu- 
manity, and upon their graves she stood and uttered 
thanksgiving. On the other hand, we have seen beg- 
gars and slaves in whose veins not a single drop of 
princely blood was flowing, come forth from their low 
abodes to startle the world with the brilliancy of their 
lives, wake up the race to angelic deeds and pro- 
duce a wonderful change throughout all the ranks of 
men, and all grades of human society. Such was 
Luther. He was no prince. He bore no tokens of 
royalty. He came clad in no habiliments of state 
and majesty. From a cloistered cell he came — a 
shaven monk. In his hand no sceptre — on his head 
no crown. But he had a human heart within him, 
and it gushed out for human woe. Such was Wilber- 
force and Howard and Carey and a host of others, who 
have stood for right, and breasted the world's dark 
tide for the good of men. 

Intellect does not make the man. I admit the power 
of intellect. I acknowledge its superiority over wealth, 
physical power, and brute force ; but a mere in- 
teliectualist is not a man. True, intellect is one of 



20 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

the elements which enter into the composition of man 5 
as we usually apply that term; but in the better 
sense in which I use the word, the possession of in- 
tellect only, gives proof that one is fitted to be a man, 
and the use of that intellect shows to what extent he 
is a man. Enter any department of literature and 
science, and you will find men of vast power and 
might. Among the poets, you behold Byron standing 
in the first rank. The grasp of thought — the clear 
conception — the elevated diction — the elegant lan- 
guage, are seen at a single glance. As an intellec- 
tualist, he stands almost beyond the power of criticism, 
and that is a bold man who dares hurl a shaft at the 
literary merits of his productions. But y>diat is the ten- 
dency of the works of Byron ? Will his writings do good 
or evil ? I hesitate not to say, as other men have said 
before me, that they tend to corruption, — that they 
are calculated to sink the feelings of the reader, — lower 
the standard of his virtues, — corrupt his taste and 
deprave his heart. Among historians, stands con- 
spicuously the name of Gibbon. And what was he ? 
From every quarter of the globe, I hear the reply, 
" He was one of the world's most distinguished wri- 
ters." His " Decline and Fall of the Boman Empire," 
will continue to be read with interest so long as the 
world stands — his name will be remembered as long 
as time endures. But Gibbon was a sceptic as well 
as a historian. His works are full of artful attacks up* 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 21 

on the religion of the cross. Scepticism is interwoven 
with all that he has written, and to the last age will 
be handed down with his grand history, his attempts 
to undermine the Bible, and overthrow the Christian 
faith. While literature will point to him as one of its 
most distinguished ornaments, Christianity will pro- 
nounce the name of Edward Gibbon with tears of 
pity. Poetry and history are not the only depart- 
ments which furnish such instances. On every page 
of the book of fame, are found the names of men en- 
dowed by God with giant minds — men of dazzling 
intellect, who have used their powers for the perver- 
sion of truth and the destruction of the kingdom of 
Christ. Look at Bulwer and Alexander Dumas ! 
what powers of mind ! what vast capacity for labor ! 
what unwearied perseverance in catering to the pub- 
lic taste ; and all perverted — all used to debase 
man, and sink him to a level with the brutes. Tow- 
ering intellect, when used for unholy purposes — when 
made a minister of vice, is a curse, not only to its 
possessor but to all who come within the circle of 
its fatal influence: and better would it be for the 
world to be without these splendid intellects than to 
have them devoted to the service of Satan. 

In enforcing the exhortation of David to his son, 
upon your minds my readers, I wish to present three 
ways in which each one may show himself a man in 
the highest meaning of that term, and which if obser- 



22 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

ved will promote happiness in this life and lead to 
glory in the life to come. As I make these remarks > 
I remember that I am a young man myself-— that a 
mutual sympathy must exist between myself and the 
younger portion of my congregation — that we are 
sailing over life together, and hence have common 
interests, common hopes, and common dangers. I will 
urge you then to show yourself a man, 

I. By a manly effort for the promotion of 
virtue. Society cannot exist without virtue. It is 
impossible for a vicious and depraved community to 
be prosperous and happy. God has otherwise or- 
dained. He has made virtue the basis of happiness, 
and vice the cause of sorrow. With communities, as 
well as with individuals, the sentiment of Scripture 
proves true, " The way of the transgressor is hard." 
Hence, if we look back over the history of the past, 
we find nations and communities prosperous and hap- 
py, just in proportion to the public and private virtues 
of the people. We find the ancient republics while 
devoted to virtue, rising in opulence and increasing in 
honor and happiness. We behold them increasing 
their influence ; spreading their conquests, and ex 
tending their authority. But in process of time those 
republics became corrupt ; the virtue of the peo- 
ple died out, the temples were consecrated to crime, 
and the altars stained with blood. As vice increased, 
the bright dream of happiness vanished before its dark 



ELEMENTS OE A MANLY COURSE. 28 

and dreadful form, and one by one those nations, 
once the admiration of the world, have fallen into ruin. 
Where are they now ? Their blackened pillars — 
their crumbling temples — their ruined honor, their 
fallen greatness, alone remain as warning beacons to 
all coming time. The principle remains unchanged. 
Virtue is now the basis of happiness and prosperity, 
and the nation which discards it, will speedily sink in- 
to ruin. France has been tampering with it for years, 
and the result has been fearful. Revolution after 
revolution has occurred — one wave of blood after 
another has rolled through the guilty streets of Paris, 
and the people from one end of the land to the other, 
have been clothed in mourning. In our own land, — 
in all our cities, — a warfare between virtue and vice 
is in continual progress. The discordant elements of 
one, and the pure principles of the other, are at work, 
striving for universal conquest. The gigantic form 
of evil is stalking abroad, and sin of all grades is 
fearfully prevalent. Look around, and you will be- 
hold intemperance fondly cherished. Tou will see 
the drunkard reeling and staggering to his fall. You 
will see standing at the bar, all characters and con- 
ditions in life, from the young man who seems 
abashed amid the gay throng, and takes his first 
glass with trembling and fear, to the aged drunkard 
from whom all shame and contrition have fled a^way. 
Go forth and you will see them reeling out to the 



24 THE YOUNG MAN*S FRIEND. 

light of day, the son, the brother, the father, and 
sometimes the wife and mother. Follow them to 
their abodes, and you will behold their homes divested 
of all that is attractive, and converted into places of 
misery. Intemperance is not alone. By its side, 
marching to this conquest over man, is immorality of 
every sort, and depravity of every description. The 
picture which Pollock drew of our world as it will 
be at the consummation, is too fearfully true at the 
present time : 

" Satan raged loose, Sin had her will, and Death 
Enough. Blood trod upon the heels of Blood ; 
Revenge in desperate mood, at midnight met 
Revenge. War brayed to War, Deceit deceived 
Deceit. Lie cheated Lie, and Treachery, 
Mined under Treachery ; and Perjury 
Swore back on Perjury ; and Blasphemy 
Arose with hideous Blasphemy, and curse 
Loud answering curse ; and drunkard stumbling fell 
O'er drunkard fallen ; and husband, husband met 
Returning from each other's bed defiled : 
Thief stole from thief ; and robber on the way 
Knocked robber down ; and Lewdness, Violence 
And Hate met Lewdness, Violence, and Hate." 

The mission of the young man in this age, is, to 
meet these evils which have crept in upon society, 
and with all his influence arrest if possible the tide of 
sin which is sweeping over the world. Vice has its 
known, open, avowed supporters. Those who are en- 
gaged in vicious employments — whose craft consists 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 25 

in making men miserable, and preparing their souls 
for perdition, are using all their endeavors to spread 
corruption. In some cases the public press and the 
pulpit, have so far forgotten the dignity connected with 
them, as to become defenders of crime, and have given 
their sanction to the progress of the fearful scourge. 
Now I cherish the opinion, and in it I think 
you will concur, that the young men of our coun- 
try have never taken that position in relation to 
vice, which it is their sacred duty to occupy. Thus 
far they have stood aloof, as a body, from the great 
contest, and have left their grey-haired sires to fight 
alone. They have felt that it did not belong to 
them to enter the foremost rank, and stand out in 
defence of the great principles of right. In this I 
contend that young men have mistaken their true 
position. There is no class, to whom a louder call is 
given by God and humanity, to enter the field as the 
avowed defenders of virtue and truth. There is no 
class of persons capable of accomplishing more, and 
effecting the object with more ease and readiness than 
are they. Should the young men of our cities in one 
firm united band set their faces against vice of every 
description, the effect would be instant and irresistible. 
Half the dram-shops would be closed, half the gam- 
bling-saloons would be deserted, crape would hang 
upon the door of the theatre, and the grinding of the 
music in the hall of revelry would become low. And 



26 THE YOUNG MAN 7 S FRIEND. 

I ask if such a prospect has nothing attractive to this 
crowd of young men ? Is not the sight of reformed — 
regenerated drunkards — redeemed gamblers, lib- 
ertines, and Sabbath-breakers, one worthy of our care 
and efforts ? Is there no music in the song of the 
mother over her reformed son ? Is there no charm 
in the willing step of the prodigal, as he returns to 
the home of his youth, and to the bosom of his sire ? 
Is there no beauty to the form of Virtue as she stands 
with her foot upon the neck of prostrate Vice ? 

The question will arise in some minds, What can I 
do ? Were I in the ministry, or did I stand at the head 
of one of the learned professions, the attempt might 
be successful. Let such a young man look at the 
instances in which young men, and old men, have ac- 
complished great results under the most discouraging 
circumstances. Let him turn his eye to Luther as 
from his cell he came, and hurled his shafts at Rome. 
Let him behold Columbus as he chartered his ves- 
sel, and hired his crew, and sailed forth, jeered and 
scorned, to discover a new world. Let him contem- 
plate the numberless cases of like character which 
adorn the history of the world, and learn from them, 
that a young man can do anything that is right. 

II. By a manly interest in the elevation of 
the race. We sustain certain relations to the whole 
human family. We are children of one common pa- 
rent. We are the heirs of one common inheritance. 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 27 

Go to the wildest spot on earth, and find the blackest 
character which exists within the limits of the race, 
and you find in that dark character, a relative — a 
hrother. Ethiopia's son as he lifts his hands to God 
— the wild Karen as he rushes from his dark jungle, 
ready for blood — the child of Erin, as he comes in 
rags and poverty to our shores, are all our brethren. 
We cannot divest ourselves of this relationship if we 
would. God has formed it for us, and whether we 
are willing to acknowledge the fact or not, the race 
is one wide and indissoluble fraternity. The black 
faced negro — the hunted Indian and the proudest 
child of civilization, are of one blood. Hence we find 
that God has given us a natural sympathy one with 
another. He has created us with a feeling of rela- 
tionship, and given us a disposition to assist the fallen, 
and relieve the wants of the needy. He has designed 
that we should be mutual helpers and assistants, and 
has placed us in a position of mutual dependence, so 
that our relations may ever be recognised. 

It is when man is displaying himself for the good of 
others that he seems most Godlike, and if there is 
a time when he appears to have but little of the influ- 
ence of depravity in his heart, it is, when ministering 
like an angel of mercy to the wants and woes of life. 
Now in the providence of God it has occurred, 
that the young men of America are more favorably 
situated, than are the young men of any other poiv 



28 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 

tion of the earth. Thanks to God and the Puri- 
tans, we occupy a spot on which intelligence, mo- 
rality, and religion have shed their mildest beams, 
and exerted their most happy influences. Conse- 
quently we can look abroad and behold everywhere 
the objects of pity and commiseration. Ignorance, 
slavery, heathenish degradation, arrest the attention 
everywhere, and pathetic appeals from every quarter 
are made to the young men of our own favored sec- 
tion of the earth. Nor have we a right to deny these 
claims and resist these appeals. The object for which 
we live, is not to secure our own gratification, and min- 
ister to our own increasing desires. The good of 
others should be one of the most prominent objects 
of our lives — an object never to be forgotten. He 
who has never felt his bosom thrill with pity at the 
recital of scenes which are transpiring upon the 
earth, he who has not gazed with feelings of deep 
commiseration upon the millions who sit in dark- 
ness and in the shadow of death, and w T ho has never 
made an effort to send them the means of civiliza- 
tion, and the religion of the cross, is a stranger to 
the emotions which will crowd upon the mind of every 
man, who understands his relations to his fellow-crea* 
tures, and who is willing to acknowledge them. 

Whatever may be our views of Christianity, whatever 
may be our opinion of experimental piety, w r e cannot 
but admit our obligation to send the Bible to all cliraes. 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 29 

Thus far the influence of Christianity upon the na- 
tions of the earth has been inconceivably great. It has 
swept away system after system of philosophy, politics, 
and religion. It has remodeled the whole framework 
of human society — upturned its very foundations, and 
laid at the basis of all earthly intercourse, principles 
new and hitherto unknown. Before Christianity, the 
Jews had a ritual of blood, and the heathen a ritual 
of darkness. Christ sealed up the fountain of one, 
and the exploded dogmas of past ages gave place 
to the sublime faith of the Son of God. And such 
ever will be the influence of the gospel wherever it is 
propagated. It will dissipate darkness — dispel the 
gloom of mind — break the fetters of the slave, and 
make virtuous and happy society. 

Such being the nature of Christianity, it is the duty 
of young men to send it to the heathen, whether they 
have themselves embraced it, or not. Whatever may 
be our opinion of its influence upon the soul of man, 
all agree that it embraces the only system of morality ' 
which can render the world happy, and the govern- 
ments of the earth glorious. Consequently it is our 
duty, to send to heathen nations the Bible, that 
it may civilize and make them moral, and he who 
casts his influence against the missionary enterprise, 
casts it not only against the salvation of the souls of 
the heathen, but against the progress of civilization, 
and hence, is an enemy of his race, and forfeits liis 



80 THE YOUNG MAN'S EEIEND, 

claim to the name of man. Our relations to others 
are not understood as they ought to be. The mass 
of young men seem to feel that they are under no 
obligation to aid in the elevation of the race. But is 
it so ? God and humanity give a negative reply. 
The young have no right to rest from toil, until 
want is driven from the borders of our own coun- 
try, until virtue is respected, and vice hated, un- 
til labor receives its due reward, until honest men 
are respected whatever may be their pecuniary 
circumstances, until general intelligence shall be 
characteristic of the people. They have no right to 
rest from toil, until every one of the three million 
slaves who groan upon our southern soil are free ; 
until war, and the spirit of war are eradicated from 
the breast of man ; until bloodshed and cruel oppres- 
sion are done away. They have no right to cease 
from toil, until the thrones of tyrants are demolished ; 
until aristocracies of blood, birth, and wealth are 
buried in one common grave. They have no right to 
rest until over all the earth the gospel has been 
preached and Christianity embraced — until 

1 The voice of singing, 

Flow§ joyfully along : 
And hill and valley ringing 

With one triumphant song, 
Proclaim the contest ended, 

And Him who once was slain. 
Again to earth descended 

In righteousness to reign." 



ELEMENTS OE A MANLY COURSE. 81 

III. By a manly submission to the govern 
ment of God. There is a notion widely spread, that 
religion is an unmanly thing, that embracing it, be- 
trays a womanly weakness, that it is the product 
of superstitious fear, or of a fanatical imagination. 
Thousands who respect Christianity on account of its 
triumphs, who admire the Bible on account of the 
purity and sublimity of its doctrines, would lose the 
right hand, rather than be suspected of being tinc- 
tured with what are deemed the follies of Christians. 
Especially young men, shrink from having it known 
that they have any desire to become savingly inter- 
ested in the cross of Christ. On this rock thousands 
have shipwrecked salvation and their souls. Con- 
vinced of sin, of the need of a Saviour, they have 
hushed the voice of the Spirit — crushed the aspira- 
tions of the better nature, lest the world should place 
on them the brand of fanaticism ; and there are 
some present who would become submissive to the 
Divine will, and embrace humble piety, did they not 
deem the act childish and unfashionable. But how 
mistaken are such ! Pure religion instead of being 
childish, unmanly and weak, is honorable in the 
highest degree. God is our moral governor, and 
submission is honorable. God is our father, and obe- 
dience is honorable. God is our benefactor, and 
gratitude is honorable. You have earthly parents 
who have watched over your advancing years, who 



32 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

have protected you from childhood, and would shame 
tinge your cheek were it told that you revered and 
honored and obeyed those parents ? JSTo : and should a 
blush be seen, when God the Eternal Father is obeyed 
and worshipped? Religion consists in doing right, 
and is doing right, manly or unmanly ? Religion is 
gratitude to a kind friend and benevolent benefactor, 
and is gratitude under such circumstances manly or 
unmanly ? The angels are engaged night and day in 
the service of God — the highest intelligences of 
Heaven, bow before the dazzling throne with cease- 
less songs, and tell me, is such service manly or un- 
manly, honorable or dishonorable ? Instead of be- 
ing a dishonorable work, the service of God is the 
highest and noblest which can engage the attention of 
angels or men ; while sin is unmanly, weak, cow- 
ardly, debasing, and devilish. Every man who is 
converted and becomes a child of God has conferred 
upon him immortal glory, while every sinner who lives 
on in sin is covering himself with everlasting shame 
and disgrace. I am not alone in this view of the 
subject. Some of the mightiest minds have been 
found among those who have been believers in ex- 
perimental piety, and who have loved to attest by 
many works of love, their attachment to the reli- 
gion of the cross. Men from all professions — from 
all parties and all countries — from all ranks in life, 
and degrees of mental culture, have been found, 



ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 83 

who were not ashamed of Christ, but who deemed his 
religion manly and honorable. Sir Matthew Hale., 
one of the most distinguished Judges which England 
has ever had, was a Christian. Joseph Addison, one 
of the most beautiful writers of Europe, and who has 
added much to the literature of his native land, was 
a Christian. Cowper, Pollok, Milton, and other 
great poets of the world, were Christians. Fene- 
lon, Mackintosh, Paley, Tillotson, Melancthon, were 
Christians. Sir Isaac Newton, one of the greatest 
philosophers who ever lived, and a host of others whose 
names I have no time to mention, were Christians. 

Of our own countrymen some of the most illustrious 
have been among the professors of the faith of the 
cross, deeming it no reproach. The great leader oi 
our tribes, Washington, was not only a godly man, bub 
everywhere let it be known. The whole army, the offi- 
cers and private members of the regiments, knew that 
he was a man of humble piety and prayer. Several 
of the framers of the declaration of independence were 
disciples of Christ, known and avowed. Several of 
our most able judges are men of like,, precious faith, 
and though of different creeds and sects, unite in 
their hearty attachment to vital godliness. The " old 
man eloquent," whose form we laid away as it were 
but yesterday, and whom the nation loveth to honor, 
was a man of piety. Amid the arduous duties which 
devolved upon him, he found time to commune with 
3 



34 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

God, and perform those duties which some of our 
young men deem so childish and frivolous, but which 
the venerable ex-President loved to perform, even to 
his dying moment. These cases I select from a mul- 
titude of others which I only need time to produce, 
as witnesses of the opinion, which these men of strong 
minds and untarnished honor, have cherished in re- 
gard to the Christian faith. 

And if it was not dishonorable to them, will it be 
so to us ? If they were called disciples, and the 
charge brought no blush to the cheek, shall we be 
ashamed of God our Father — of Christ our Saviour ? 

" Ashamed of Jesus, sooner far, 
Let evening blush to own a star." 

I have done. The time allotted for a single lec- 
ture has already expired, and what effect has been 
produced ? Have I aroused one manly feeling, 
have I awakened one generous emotion, have I 
kindled up in one mind a desire to do good, or 
love God ? Let thy heart be strong, young man, for 
high and holy deeds, and be determined to be some- 
thing more than a slave, who toils by day, and lies 
down to sleep at night, forgetful of his kin, his coud 
try, and his God. 

" Count life by virtues — these will last 
When life's lame-footed race is o'erj 
And these, when earthly joys are past, 
Shall cheer us on a brighter shore." 



LECTUEE II. 



YOUTH; ITS ADVANTAGES AND DISAD- 
VANTAGES. 



Meditate upon these things ; give thyself wholly to them ; that thy 
profiting may appear to all. 1 Timothy, iy. 15. 

^te^HIS was part of an address delivered to 
wm\ a young man who was about to embark 
^rly upon the sea of life, without experience 
and exposed to all the temptations by 
which the period of youth is surrounded. He 
had chosen a high and sacred calling. He had 
entered the Christian ministry, and had devoted 
himself to the work of reforming his fellow-men. 
Though commissioned by God and ordained by 
inspired men, he was yet to a considerable extent, 
to be the framer of his own course. His success 
as a man and as a minister, depended in a certain 
sense, upon the plan which he should pursue and 
the course of action which he should adopt. To 
guide him through the period of his inexperience, 
the apostle Paul directed to him the two epistles 
which bear his name. In these epistles cer- 

(35) 



36 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

tain sentiments are advanced, and certain principles 
of action prescribed, and the injunction is given, that 
he should meditate upon them, give them his serious 
consideration for the obvious reason, that his profit 
ing might appear in his intercourse with men. 

Those of us who are young are starting upon the 
voyage of life, more or less elated with hopes and 
prospects of success. With us, the period of child- 
hood has passed away, and with it, the period of de- 
pendence upon parental oversight. Like a vessel 
which has left its moorings in the jtmrbor, and stretch- 
ed its canvas for a returnless voyage, and floated 
out upon the heaving bosom of the great ocean, so 
each young man has left the home of his childhood, 
the roof which sheltered him in infancy, and the 
scenes which clustered around him there, and gone 
forth to grapple with the stern realities of mature life. 
He may have kind parents and prudent friends, but 
they follow him not, and to a certain extent he is 
alone upon the world's wide waste. This is felt by 
every young person, as he goes forth into life to seek 
his own fortune, and carve out his own destiny. 
He enters his profession, locates himself in business> 
and feels that the great world is before him. In 
most cases high hopes are cherished. A fortune daz- 
zles the eyes of the youthful aspirant, and he rushes 
on to secure it, without one single thought of failure. 
Most young men when they enter the active scenes 



37 

of life appear to have made provision for nothing but 
complete and triumphant success. Whatever may 
be the object of pursuit, they seem to have it in their 
grasp, and in a multitude of cases meet nothing but 
misfortune and disappointment. You have seen the 
noble vessel leaving some, one of our harbors on the 
coast, on a beautiful morning in summer, with all 
sails spread, with every banner and pennant flying, 
with joy on every countenance and high hope beating 
in every heart. Tou have watched her progress as 
she walked through " the waters like a thing of life," 
and faded from your view upon the distant ocean. 
You have admired her majestic and imposing form, 
and wished yourself upon her deck, about to traverse 
with her, the fathomless deep. You have stood there 
long after she has disappeared from view, and have 
turned from the spot without dreaming that the noble 
vessel would become a wreck ere midnight. But fol- 
low her out to sea, and you will soon see dark clouds 
rolling over the sun — far away in the distance the 
hoarse thunder will mutter — the moaning sea will 
present a fearful aspect, and utter from her sepulchral 
lips ominous threatenings. Soon the storm will come. 
Peal after peal of thunder — flash after flash of light- 
ning adds terror to the scene. The ship which you 
saw a few hours before, moving so majestically from 
the harbor will quiver upon the wave like the play- 
thing of a child. The tattered sails, the falling 



38 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

masts, the broken helm, the wave-washed deck all 
present a frightful aspect. The billows swell high ; 
like mountains they rise and fall with terrible fury 
upon the sinking vessel. In their terror the marl 
ners pray to the God of the ocean and the storm for 
help. Lips long accustomed to blasphemy now utter 
supplications for mercy. But deaf to all their cries 
the storm rages on. One by one the unhappy men 
are swept away. Their last prayer mingled perhaps 
with the name of wife or child, rings out like a hollow 
wail over the deep, and all is hushed. The ship her- 
self, unwilling to yield, struggles on a moment longer, 
and then with a terrible plunge descends to the bot- 
tom of ocean, and not one single object is left to 
mark the spot. 

Such is the sad history of many of the most promis- 
ing young men of our land. They commence life 
under the most flattering circumstances, but ere they 
have accomplished half the task, they are overtaken 
by storms of moral and commercial embarrassment, 
and are shipwrecked just where hope had painted the 
brightest vision of success. With this fact before me, 
I have concluded to present for your consideration 
this evening a few themes for profitable meditation. 
As the mariner starts upon his voyage, there are cer* 
tain facts and principles which he must keep before 
his mind. He must remember that storm is almost 
inevitable, and must be prepare! to guard against it. 



youth; advantages and disadvantages. 39 

If he allows it to overtake him while he has all sail 
spread, and every sheet of canvas out, he must ex- 
pect shipwreck. He will perhaps be becalmed, and 
against such an emergency must have a sufficient 
supply of bread and water. He is liable to be over- 
taken by piratical crafts, and hence must be ready 
for a conflict with them. If he goes forth thoughtless 
of all these considerations, his voyage will most cer- 
tainly prove unsuccessful, his ship will founder in 
mid ocean, and the morning wave will sweep back 
to the city of his birth to tell his wife that she is a 
widow. 

There are certain facts which all young men should 
remember as they commence the active duties of life. 
Remembered and acted upon, they will prove like the 
forethought of the mariner, and prevent the destruc- 
tion of their enterprises. Forgotten, they will lead to 
the most disastrous consequences, and a want of the 
knowledge which these principles afford, will prove 
a source of misfortune and disappointment. You 
will allow me therefore to enumerate a few points on 
which we may do well to meditate, that our profiting 
may appear to all men. 

I. Youth is the period when the character 
IS formed. This is universally true. I am not pre- 
pared to admit that there is a single exception. All 
past experience testifies that in youth the man is 
moulded, and the bent given to his character. Even 



40 THE YOUNG MAiN H FRIEND. 

in those cases where the young man grows up vir- 
tuous and respected, and at thirty or forty years of 
age becomes corrupted and debased, we shall find if 
we rigidly examine his early history, that in his youth 
ful days the foundation of a vicious character was 
laid, but in consequence of the peculiar circumstances 
under which he was placed, that character was not de- 
veloped. This is the testimony of many w T ho have died 
upon the scaffold. They have stated that the basis of 
their horrid crimes was laid perhaps in childhood, or 
in youth, but being surrounded by virtuous friends, 
the evil passions were restrained, but continued pent 
up in the bosom like the fires of a volcano. When 
years had rolled away, and there was less desire and 
inducement to keep the favor of society, these passions 
like the fires of heated Vesuvius, sent out their dread- 
ful streams of moral destruction. On the other hand 
you find many who in their younger days were vicious, 
whose youth was stained with crime ; but who as 
years rolled away reformed from vice and became 
useful members of society. A careless observer of 
human nature w r ould suppose that reformation w 7 as 
the result of the thought and reflection of years, 
that as the mind became more mature, it became dis- 
satisfied with the follies and crimes of youth. But in 
a majority, and perhaps I may say in all these cases, 
this is not the fact. Reformation instead of being 
the result of the experience and observation and re- 



YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 41 

flection of years, may be traced back to childhood, 
to some isolated circumstance in youth, to the coun- 
sel of some Sabbath-school teacher, to the prayer of 
a dying father, to the exhortation written upon the 
blank leaf of the Bible by a sainted mother, or to 
something else which years of crime have been un- 
able to efface from the memory. To illustrate this 
point a few cases will suffice. The character of Na- 
poleon Bonaparte was formed in youth. His weak 
but ambitious friends taught him that he would at one 
day be a great conqueror. To inspire him with the 
same feelings, they formed mimic armies, and set him 
at the head of them, gave him a love of conquest 
and predominance, and thus laid the basis of his future 
character. Had the same care and expense been 
used to make of him a different being, the world 
would never have been astonished by his deeds of 
blood and crime. He might have been a Luther, a 
Howard, a Wilberforce, but for this unfortunate direc- 
tion of his youth. The plays of his childhood made 
him the ambitious tyrant, and sent him like a scourge 
across the continent of Europe. Hume was a scep- 
tic. It is said that in his early years he was a de- 
vout and conscientious believer in the word of God, 
but while young was in some debating association 
appointed to bring forward for sake of controversy, 
the arguments of the infidel. He consented. He 
studied long, brought his acute mind into contact 



42 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

with the sophistry of sceptics, and ere he was a^are 
of it, had embraced their notions. Like melted lava 
his mind received sceptical impressions, and then con- 
gealed, and his whole after life bore the deformed 
and sightless image of infidelity. It is said of Vol- 
taire, one of the most brilliant writers of his age, that 
when five years old he committed to memory an in- 
fidel poem, and was never able after that to undo its 
pernicious influence upon his mind. He lived and 
died a corrupter of the world, and thousands who 
have been ruined by him will bewail his memory to 
all eternity. 

It is said of one of the regicides who condemned 
to death the unfortunate Charles Stuart, king of 
England, that in early life he was of immoral charac- 
ter, but when about ten years of age he was passing 
a church in London, and stood at the door a-while to 
listen. He heard distinctly only one sentence, " If 
any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be 
Anathema Maranatha." He passed on to the com- 
mission of crime, but that fearful sentence followed 
him everywhere. At the age of twenty, it had pro- 
duced such an impression upon him that he deter- 
mined to reform, and became a man of influence and 
virtue. After the fall of Cromwell and the restoration 
of the crown, he fled to another country, and there 
when nearly eighty years of age, that single sentence 
weighed upon his mind and induced him to become a 



YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 43 

believer in Christ, as well as a man of virtue. This 
same sentiment will be illustrated in the lives of all 
of us. As young men we are forming characters and 
habits which will affect our old age, and make us vir- 
tuous or vicious, happy or miserable, in life's decline. 
I think I hazard nothing in saying that but few char- 
acters change materially after the age of twenty-five 
or thirty. By that period habits become fixed, im- 
pressions formed, and the future character of the man 
made. Nor is there so wide a difference in the minds 
of the young, as many seem to suppose. There are 
not those towering distinctions at birth, which in after 
years make some intellectual wonders, and assign 
others to ignorance and degradation. Though a 
natural difference of mind does undoubtedly exist, yet 
I apprehend that early impressions, and the discipline 
of youth, go further to make men intellectual giants 
or pigmies, than any original endowment of mind. 
The bearing of these remarks and illustrations upon 
young men will be plainly seen. If character is 
formed in youth, then it follows that we are moulding 
our future fives, and by every act, writing out our 
own history. If we form correct, virtuous, and man- 
ly habits, they will follow us to our graves, they 
will mark us through all our earthly course, and be 
the ornaments which shall deck our declining years. 
Look among the aged, and you will find various char- 
acters ; the vicious and the virtuous, and if you search 



44 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIENF. 

out the history of each, you will find that age corre 
sponds with youth. The miser was miserly when he 
was young. The aged gambler commenced gambling 
in some form when he was young. The drunkard 
learned the vice in his youth. The hoary thief was 
a dishonest boy. The sceptic drank in the poison of 
his infidelity in early life. On the other hand, you 
will find that the virtuous, laid the basis of that virtue 
in years long since gone by. The lover of inspira- 
tion learned it on his mother's knee, or around the 
family altar. The respecter of God, learned it ere 
this deceitful world had marked its images of sin and 
woe upon the soul, as deeply as in mature years. 
Ask Philip Doddridge where he obtained the elements 
of his noble character ? and he will tell you the story 
of his mother, teaching him to love God by sentences 
written on the tiles which composed the hearthstone. 
Ask Richard Baxter where tie obtained his character ? 
and he will tell you of tr efforts made by his father 
upon his youthful mine 1 and heart. Go to a host of 
others and ask the sa:;. A e question, and they will point 
back through yean, of sin and sorrow to youth or 
early manhood. Scripture, nature, history, are all 
full of the same sentiment, and in their various 
ways inculcate the same truth. They alike de- 
clare that age is unbending as the forest oak, while 
youth is as pliable as the tender sapling — thai 
age is as insensible to new impressions as the har- 



YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 45 

dened rock, while youth is as yielding as the undried 
clay. 

A pebble on the streamlet scant, 

Has turned the course of many a river; 

A dewdrop on the baby plant, 

Has warped the giant oak forever." 

Hence if we would form right characters ourselves, 
or help others to form right characters, we must begin 
before the middle of life. We must take the sapling 
ere it becomes a gnarled and tangled oak ; we must 
take the little rivulet ere it has become swollen to a 
mighty river ; we must take the clay ere it has been 
hardened into flinty rock, and rendered insensible to 
impressions. 

II. Youth is a season of great ardor, great 
folly, and great mistakes. The ardor of youth 
is proverbial. Scarcely a young man can be found 
whose heart does not beat with high hopes, and 
whose bosom does not thrill with strong emotions. 
So short has been their acquaintance with the world, 
that they have not learned how deceitful are its 
pleasures, and how vain its pursuits. Hence they 
ure flattered by every prospect, and engage in the 
various employments of life with the whole heart and 
strength. Old men distrust the world, they have 
been cheated by its hollow promises so many times, 
that they have become cautious and prudent. Not 
so with the young. If you will look over community 



46 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

you will find that those who are pushing into every 
hazardous enterprise, who are concocting schemes for 
reforming or deforming men, who embrace the wild 
and extravagant theories which are abroad, are drawn 
mostly from the young and inexperienced portion of 
society. Old men love the past, and live in it. 
Young men live in the future. Progress is their 
watchword, and they move onward, whatever may be 
before them. Our fathers respect venerable ' institu- 
tions, and have no desire for change. Their sons look 
with contempt upon the past, and regard nothing on 
account of its antiquity. The old way of living is te- 
dious and irksome, and men live faster, move faster, 
think faster than in former times. Old men are 
content with doing a reasonable business ; young men 
need a California to make them rich in a single hour. 
Our old men are willing to live in comfortable habi- 
tations in the quiet village ; our young men talk of 
revelling in the halls of the Montezumas. Our old 
men are willing to study to be wise, and have made 
life a college course ; our young men are ground out 
through intellectual mills, into the hopper of which 
the dunce and the prodigy go together. Our old 
men are content to live at home and practise life's 
stern duties ; our young men talk of travel. They 
wish to stand on the Alps, cr dig into the ruins of 
Herculaneum and Pompeii. They must walk the 
blood-stained streets of Paris — traverse the lanes 



YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 47 

and avenues of London, or mingle with the Italian 
throng as they crowd the streets of Rome. Our old 
men were willing to work for the bread they ate, and 
the cup of milk which they drank when weary ; our 
young men have made servants of iron, and fire, and 
water, and converted them into curious combinations, 
to perform labor once done by human hands. These 
different changes have been effected by the restless 
activity of tho young. The earnestness of youth is 
devoted to improvement, and the changes which we 
see, are the results of that earnestness. Nor would 
we have it otherwise. Improvement is the order of 
life, progress the law of society, and God has wisely 
placed old men and young men in the world together, 
that the young might drag the car of reformation, 
while the aged guide and control it. 

But while the energy of young men suggests so 
many improvements in society, it also leads to many 
mistakes and follies. They who rush forward at 
every call, heedless of consequences ; who stand in 
front of every battle ; who are earnest for every new 
theory, will be liable to meet with disaster and defeat. 
The locomotive .on the rail road, which has the hea- 
viest press of steam, will perform the journey in tho 
shortest time, and will also be more liable to leap 
from the track, and dash itself and the train which 
follows it, into ruin. The liability to disaster is pro- 
portionate to the pressure of steam. The mail-steamei 



48 THE YOUNG MiN'S FRIEND. 

in crossing the ocean will be likely to make a quickei 
passage, if she builds her fires hotter, and crowds her 
sails, and generates her steam more liberally; and 
she will also be more likely to meet with accident, 
and go to the bottom of the ocean. The danger is 
commensurate with the extraordinary speed. Thus 
is it, to some extent, with the energy of youth. 
While confined to certain limits, and flowing in a 
proper channel, it will secure the desirable result. 
But the more haste we make to be rich, the more 
eagerly we grasp for fame,, the more zealous we are 
in any cause, the more liable are we to overstep the 
limits of prudence, and fall into fatal errors. 

And thus has it been in all the history of the past. 
The enthusiasm of youth has led many into sad mis- 
takes, and these mistakes have ended in the complete 
overthrow of the most brilliant schemes. How many 
young men have commenced business with the lauda- 
ble purpose of supporting themselves. Before them 
the road to fortune was open, and they entered it. 
One speculation after another presented itself, one 
plan after another was adopted. Day by day, and 
week by week, they ventured into deeper water, 
and took upon themselves new obligations. Soon, 
instead of finding themselves the possessors of a for- 
tune, they were bankrupt, and perhaps with the loss 
of money, came also the loss of credit and character. 
The tide of fife is dotted with the wrecks of character, 



YOUTH , ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 49 

with the ruins of young men who started fair and with 
high prospects of usefulness, but who have failed, sig- 
nally and fearfully failed. And why have they fail- 
ed ? Simply because they refused to profit by the 
experience of those who have preceded them, and 
have allowed the zeal of youth to trample upon reason, 
and blind the judgment and the conscience. A ma- 
jority of the failures which are made by our young 
men might be avoided, would they heed the injunc- 
tion of Paul, and meditate upon these things, w T hich 
so intimately concern their success in this life, and 
their happiness beyond it. They who rush out into 
life determined to pluck its flowers, must look and 
see where they grow. If they bloom upon the border 
of some dark precipice, they must tread cautiously, 
lest they stumble in the attempt to secure the prize. 
If some venomous serpent lies coiled up at the root, 
they must be careful lest the hand w r hich plucks the 
flower should be bitten by the viper. 

III. Youth is a period of great efforts and 
great results. There has existed a notion in time 
past, that age alone was capable of performing gresrt 
deeds, and accomplishing vast results. This notion 
has become to a great extent, a common sentiment, 
and we are apt to pass by young men, and deem them 
unworthy of notice, because their heads are not cov- 
ered with silver locks, and their limbs trembling on 
the borders of the grave. I admit that age has the 
4 



50 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

most experience, that old men are likely to act with 
more prudence and caution, but I also contend that 
youth may put forth efforts, and lead to great results. 
The history of the world has proved, that the young 
are better fitted for active or laborious service, than 
are their fathers, and in every enterprise where 
labor is required, we naturally look to young men. 
Our hostile armies are composed, to a considerable 
extent, of young men ; our most distinguished writers 
and statesmen, commenced in early life ; our poets 
and orators earned some of their freshest laurels 
while in the morning of their days. 

From a work* published a few years since, I 
have gathered a few facts bearing upon this very 
point — facts which clearly illustrate my position, 
and prove that youth is capable of great deeds, 
and if properly improved will accomplish vast re- 
sults. "It is said that one of the greatest mili- 
tary men of the world, Alexander the Great, was less 
than thirty-three years old when he subdued his ene- 
mies in Greece, took, possession of the neighboring 
countries, passed into Asia, conquered the whole of 
Asia Minor, Syria, Egypt, and Persia, besides count 
less smaller kingdoms and a large part of- India.' ' 
" Hannibal, who was the most formidable enemy 
which Rome ever had, was made General at the age 
of twenty-two. By the time he was twenty-eight, he 

* Pattern's Lectures to Young Men. 



YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 51 

had driven the Romans from Spain and Gaul, had 
crossed the Alps with an immense army, and by the 
battle of Canae, had brought Rome itself into dan- 
ger of capture." " Bonaparte, at the age twenty- 
seven, was made General of the French armies ; after 
which he subdued the whole of Italy, passed into 
Egypt, was made First Consul at the age of thirty \ 
and having like Hannibal crossed the Alps, and by 
the decisive victory of Marengo again subdued Italy., 
was eventually crowned Emperor, having gained 
some of his most brilliant victories by the time he 
had reached the age of thirty-five" " Hernando 
Cortes, the conqueror of Mexico, pushed his w r ay up 
from obscurity, became commander of the expedition 
to Mexico, and by consummate boldness and unmiti- 
gated villany, became at the age of thirty-five, the mas- 
ter of the Aztec Empire." " If we turn to literary 
men, poets, orators and philosophers, we find Burke 
laying the foundation of his reputation for eloquence as 
a writer and speaker, as early as his twenty-seventh 
year, and composing his celebrated treatise on the 
' Sublime and Beautiful,' in his twenty-eighth year." 
" Lord Bacon at the age of sixteen had conceived the 
design of overthrowing the philosophy of Aristotle, 
and at that early period in his life had openly ex- 
pressed and promulgated his opposing views." " Sir 
Isaac Newton had made his most important discov- 
eries in astronomy and mathematics, before he had 



52 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

reached the age of thirty" "The younger Pitt be 
came Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Prime Minis* 
ter of England, at the early age of twenty-four* and 
for many years conducted with consummate ability 
the complicated affairs of that great nation." " Lord 
Byron published many of his choicest poems at the age 
<& thirty" "Burns gave to the public some of his 
most exquisite compositions at the age ottwenty-seven" 
"Among theologians we are struck with the fact 
that Calvin composed his celebrated ' Institutes,' 
when he was but twenty-five years of age." " Philip 
Melancthon is a yet more wonderful instance of what 
can be accomplished in the early period of life. At 
twelve years of age he went to the University of 
Heidelberg, and at fourteen was made Bachelor of 
Arts. At seventeen, he was made Doctor of Philoso- 
phy. At twenty-one, he was appointed Professor of 
Ancient Languages in the University of Wittemberg. 
While but a lad, he distinguished himself, and won 
the praise of Germany and the world." " Alexander 
Pope, before he was twenty-five, had written many 
of his best poems." " Dr. Dwight commenced the 
4 Conquest of Canaan,' when he was but sixteen, and 
completed it at the age of twenty-three" To these 
cases might be added a multitude of others, and 
among them, many drawn from the history of our 
own country. Eight of the men who signed the 
declaration of independence, and gave to the world 



YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 53 

that noble document, were under thirty-five years of 
age. Lafayette was but eighteen when he stood 
shoulder to shoulder with some of the most distin- 
guished officers in the American army, and at the 
age of twenty-four ', led on the National Guards of 
France. Washington was but a lad when he was en- 
trusted with important offices, and some of his most 
distinguished battles were fought in his early youth. 
John Quincy Adams, at the age of fourteen, was pri- 
vate secretary to the Minister Plenipotentiary to the 
Court of St. Petersburgh. From this time, until he 
was chosen president, he continued to receive the 
most brilliant offices which the government could be- 
stow, and furnishes us with a remarkable instance of 
what may be accomplished in one's early days. He 
performed more in boyhood, than most men accom- 
plish in a long life of active service. 

I refer to these cases as illustrations of the truth 
of the statement, that youth is capable of great re- 
sults, and is distinguished for great deeds as well as for 
great follies and crimes. They also prove, that all 
which has been done to reform the world or enlighten 
it, or make it wiser, has not been done by age alone, 
but that youth has had its share in the improvement 
and adornment of mankind. If we should take from 
the world what has been done by young men, litera- 
ture and science would be divested of half their 
beauty, and history would lose half the brilliant 



64 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

deeds which it now records with triumph and safe 
faction. 

Thoughts like these, my readers, we should re- 
member. If there is one sin to which youth is 
more addicted than another, if there is one fault to 
which young men are exposed more than another, it 
is the fault, the sin of thoughtlessness. There is a 
haste, a precipitancy in the movements of the young, 
which not unfrequently involves in ruin the fairest 
prospect of success in life. The apostle Paul who 
had seen more of life than his young disciple, Timo- 
thy, knew this, and urged him to meditate upon things 
pure and excellent, that his profiting might appear to 
all. The same caution is needed by the young men 
of the present age, and unless they heed it, they will 
place in jeopardy the dearest interests which they 
cherish. But few of the sins of youth are committed 
deliberately. The young man does not often delibe- 
rately and thoughtfully strike the blow which commits 
him to the dungeon, or brings him to the scaffold — 
he does not deliberately enter into schemes to ruin 
others, by involving them in pecuniary or moral em- 
barrassment — he does not often wilfully and mali- 
ciously enter any path of crime. But ere he is aware, 
he is drawn step by step to such a distance from the 
path of virtue, that the passage of return is hedged 
up, the way back rendered impassable, and he goes 
on to end maliciously and designingly what he com 



YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 55 

menced thoughtlessly. Did men think more, how 
many a hand would be held back from crime ; how 
many lips would be sealed from perjury ; how many 
feet would turn away from the gates of hell. You 
have seen the sun as he arose in the east, and 
dissipated the clouds w T hich impeded his way — you 
have seen that sun struggle through the mists of 
morning, a bright and shining luminary, and rise 
higher and higher in his heavenly progress, until 
the eye of the eagle was unable to withstand his 
gaze ; you have seen that sun high in the heavens, 
scattering his beams upon man below, and riding in 
his cloudy chariot crowned with fire, the acknow- 
ledged king of day. You have also seen a comet, 
a strange erratic thing, seemingly controlled by no 
law, subject to no government, flaming through hea- 
ven, dazzling the world for awhile, and then pass- 
ing away in darkness. Like that sun we may com- 
mence in the morning of life, our steady onward pro- 
gress, governed by laws of nature and of God ; we 
may progress in life, each year excelling the past 
in virtue, in happiness, in holiness, in usefulness. 
Like that sun mo vino; on in an undeviating course, 
obeying with all precision the principles which control 
its progress, we may move on governed by laws as 
certain, and better understood ; until our path shall 
be like the path of the just, which shineth brighter 
and brighter unto the perfect day. Or we may be 



56 THE YOUNG MAN S FKIEND. 

like the comet, dashing from its course, and setting 
worlds on fire. Like the comet we may obscure our 
selves as soon, and as suddenly. By turning from 
the path of virtue and true honor, by leaving the 
great principles which God has laid down in his word, 
we shall be nothing but wrecked and ruined spirits. 
Meditate on these things, while life is young and 
buoyant, and thy sun shines fair. Be virtuous, be 
good, be circumspect, and no weapon formed against 
thee shall prosper. 

" Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt ; 
Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd; 
And even that which mischief meant most harm. 
Shall in the happy trial prove most glory." 




LECTURE III. 

FOUB SOURCES OP SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

So run that ye may obtain. 1 Corinthians, ix. 34. 

EFERENCE is had in this passage, and in 
others of a similar character, which are 
scattered through the writings of the 
apostle Paul, to the foot races of the an- 
cients. In the Olympic games, foot-racing seems 
to have been one of the most honorable and one 
of the most common. Men in high rank, and 
men in low rank, were accustomed in these exer- 
cises to contend for the prize, and he who was 
successful was wreathed with laurels, and received 
the praises, and almost the homage of the people. 
As the competitors ran in the race-course, they 
were cheered by the assembled multitude, and 
the victor deemed himself raised to the highest 
pinnacle of earthly fame. Paul in the text is 
exhorting the Corinthian Christians to run the 
spiritual race, and earnestly contend for the 
spiritual prize. He urges them not to run for 

(57) 



58 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

a corruptible crown, a fading laurel, or a transitory 
breath of applause ; but for an incorruptible crown, 
an unfading laurel, an imperishable glory. He 
wishes them to imitate the conduct of the ambitious 
racers, as they press on to secure the reward set be- 
fore them, and be as zealous to run the Christian 
race, as were they to receive a cluster of evergreens, 
and the shouts of an excited multitude. 

Human life may well be compared to a race-course, 
in which a countless number of persons are contend- 
ing for the prize. The aged have nearly finished 
— the young have just commenced. The prize set 
before them is success, which most persons suppose 
to be a competent support, an unsullied reputation, 
and a useful life. And indeed if we confine our- 
selves to the present life, and leave out "the future, 
we find that these are the chief elements of pros- 
perity, which it is the duty as well as the right of the 
young man to secure if possible. But in order to se- 
cure prosperity and success in this life, care must be 
taken and effort put forth. It is not every aspirant 
for wealth, fame, and pleasure, that will secure them. 
It is a race in which hundreds and thousands are dis- 
appointed at every trial, and where one succeeds, and 
receives the wreath of victory, many others tire and 
faint ere half the course is finished. In the Olympic 
games, the racers were required to make extensive 
preparation for the trial. For ten whole months they 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 59 

were accustomed to exercise themselves, and were 
trained by different masters, to all those exercises 
which were calculated to give strength and vigor to 
the body. Their diet was strictly regulated, and 
during a part of the time, their only food consisted of 
dried figs, nuts, and other similar fruits. When they 
entered the race, they were required to lay aside all 
unnecessary clothing, and divest themselves of every- 
thing which could impede their progress, or prevent 
their running with the greatest speed. 

For the race of life, preparation will be needed. 
The young man who enters it, and is bent on secur- 
ing success, will find that one path, and one alone, 
leads to it ; that all the other avenues and lanes of 
life, though apparently parallel, are leading in dif- 
ferent directions, and are filled with pitfalls and dan- 
gers ; that there is but one star which guides the 
traveller through it, while all other lights are as de- 
ceptive as the ignis fatuus, which plays with phos- 
phoric beauty over marshy grounds, upon which if the 
foot of man shall tread he will be placed in fearful 
jeopardy. He will find that life is no rail road, along 
w r hich we are borne without toil or effort, on cushioned 
seats or downy pillows ; that life's great employment 
does not consist in plucking flowers and listening to 
sweet music. He will find life to be a race, a contest 
not of whistling locomotives, not of w T hite-winged 
ships, but of toiling men, on foot, shoulder to shoulder, 



60 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

struggling for the prize. With this view of human 
life, I proceed to enumerate some of the sources 

OF SUCCESS. 

I. Industry. It is a law of God, an ordinance of 
Heaven, that man shall work. It is a fixed princi- 
ple, a certain law, that in the sweat of the brow shall 
the bread be eaten. There is no law which specifies 
a man's employment, or assigns him to this or that 
post of toil. There is no arrangement of God by 
which one is to cultivate the earth, and another to 
manufacture our garments and construct our dwell- 
ings. He has in no way, other than by the arrange- 
ment of his providence, made one man the producer, 
and another the distributor of his bounty. But he 
has made labor and toil essential to success in life, 
and has sent his decree to all nations, that he who 
worketh not, shall not eat. I am aware that some- 
times a fortune is made in a single day ; that by some 
turn of the wheel, a poor man is made unexpectedly 
rich, and raised at once from poverty to affluence. 
But such fortunes are exceptions to the ordinary 
course of events, and as a general thing, become a 
curse to those who inherit them, or to their children. 
The ideas which men cherish of becoming rich in a 
moment, of making a fortune by a ticket in the lot- 
tery by a throw of dice, by a commercial speculation, 
are all chimerical. God has ordained it otherwise, 
and though by these methods, money in immense 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 01 

sums, is sometimes obtained, yet it goes as easily as 
it comes. The only path to wealth in which the young 
man can travel with safety is industry. The only 
way in which he can build up a fortune worth possess- 
ing, is by toil — the toil of years. Deluded and de- 
ceived by phantom appearances, the farmer is often 
induced to leave his plough, the mechanic his work- 
shop, the tradesman his store, and the student his 
books, to embark in some wild chase for wealth, some 
erratic scheme for gaining the smiles of the god of gold, 
instead of being content to plod along in the old way, 
adding, month by month, to the increasing fund de- 
posited in the bank or invested in stocks. Some bril- 
liant chance is presented, by which if things work 
well, the hundred dollars which is on deposit, may be 
turned into a thousand. Filled with the hope of being 
rich at once, the little sum which has been earned by 
hard service, is invested, the note of the speculator is 
taken, and the dupe begins to dream of high houses, 
broad lands, swift horses — all his own. Months roll 
on, and he finds that the scheme was all the de- 
ception of a villain, and the little treasure which was 
placed in his hands is gone. If you will glance at 
the lives of those men who have amassed large for- 
tunes, who have been eminently successful in commer- 
cial projects, you will find them to be men of correct 
business habits, and of unwonted effort. You will 
find that they have arisen early in the morning, that 



82 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 

they have worked hard during the day, and remained 
up late at night. Their minds and hands have been 
busy, their whole attention has been given to the ob- 
ject of their pursuit, and they have been successful 
Had they in early years substituted hazard and specu 
lation for hard work, they would have failed of secur 
ing the object of their desires. Had they been de- 
luded by some gold-mine monomania, and left their 
families and homes, and gone forth across mountains 
and rivers and plains, amid wild beasts and fiercer 
men, to dig for the shining ore, they would have dug 
into their own graves. Had they listened to the 
voice of every wild-brained moneymaker, their for- 
tune would have consisted only of the notes of bank- 
rupt speculators. Had they tried the gaming-table, 
they might also have tried the penitentiary and the 
prison. 

I know there is a charm about this speedy way of 
making money, but it should be resisted. The young 
man goes into the bowling-alley, the gaming-saloon, 
and sits down there to see the sport. In a moment one 
of the players becomes the winner, and scrapes the shin- 
ing gold at once into his pocket. " How easily this is 
done," exclaims the novice. " Here I have toiled 
hard to earn ten shillings during the day, and this 
man has made ten dollars in a single hour." He feels 
for his purse, and finds in it a little money which he 
was reserving for his wife and child at home. He 



E07R SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 63 

sits down to play. He wins. Twice, thrice, he wins. 
He runs away to the savings-bank, where he has laid 
up a few hundred dollars. All the way he dreams 
of gold — a fortune. The gambling-room seems full 
cf money. How rich he will be to-morrow ! His 
wife shall now live in splendor — his child shall be 
Drought up in luxury. With one dollar he won ten, 
iind with his hundreds he may win thousands. Thus 
speculating he returns to the gay saloon. The 
sharpers see him come, and wink at one another. 
They know that the earnings of years are in his 
purse, and their code of honor requires its transfer to 
their pockets. The foolish one sits down among them, 
and the game commences. They urge him to drink. 
He never used wine before, but it will sharpen his 
wits now, and he drains the cup. The game excites 
him. He wins and loses — loses and wins. At mid- 
night he thinks of returning to his home, but on 
counting his money, he finds that on the whole, he 
has been a loser. He has twenty or fifty dollars less 
than when he commenced. He must win that back 
again. Again they gather around the table closer 
than before, and our hero is more mad than ever. 
He has become reckless. He stakes his all, and 
loses. The toil of years is gone. Excited, madden- 
ed, infuriated, drunk, he rushes from the fatal spot, a 
ruined man. With bloodshot eyes, and haggard 
look, he returns to his family, and changes his home 



64 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

from paradise to perdition. His haste to be rich has 
destroyed him. 

Nor can a good reputation be earned in an hour. 
Those men who have secured the respect and esteem 
of the world, as philosophers, statesmen, and philan^ 
thropists, have not done it by one single act, or by 
any short series of acts, but by patient and persever- 
ing industry. They have added virtue to virtue, one 
element of knowledge to another, and by degrees laid 
the basis of a valuable character. And thus must it 
be with the young men whom I address to-night. If 
they would be successful in life, if they would acquire 
property, secure the respect of mankind, and be use- 
ful while they live, they must do it by the patient and 
persevering industry of years. Instead then of de- 
vising schemes for sudden 'aggrandizement, go to 
work in your calling, whatever it may be, lose but 
few half-clays, and avoid all those military and civic 
societies which are forever laying assessments. Be 
punctual to ail your appointments. Make it a prin- 
ciple never to be left by the cars or the stage-coach, 
never too late at the table, in the workshop, or in 
the family. Fortunes and characters are sometimes 
lost by a want of punctuality, and one of the most 
disagreeable and unprofitable habits which we can 
form, is, to be always late. A distinguished man in a 
neighboring State, a man of wealth aid influence, 
was asked, how he secured so large a fortuaa iu so 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 65 

few years ? Without giving a direct reply, he said : 
" I was never late at an appointment, or behind my 
time, in my life." 

Whatever your business may be, persevere in it. 
Do not be a mechanic to-day, and a trader to-mor- 
row — a lawyer to-day, and a minister next week — 
a school-master now, and a physician soon. " He 
who has learned all .trades is good at none," and he 
w T ho is driving from one employment to another, will 
generally fail in all. The chimney-sweep with his 
black face and sooty blanket, will become a richer 
man than one who stays in one branch of business 
only until he can find another. 

Remember, too, that industry is honorable, and 
idleness disgraceful. The rich man, the possessor of 
millions, who allows his wealth to purchase for him 
exemption from toil, is a disgrace to his race. He 
forfeits not only his claim to his fortune, but to his 
character, and should be regarded as one of the 
drones which society is compelled to drag along with 
it. The notion which prevails extensively in Europe, 
and in our southern States, and to some extent, in en- 
lightened and beloved New England, that labor is 
disgraceful, is a false notion, and should receive the 
contempt of all men. The green-jacket of the mason, 
or the carpenter, besmeared with lime, or covered 
with dust, is as honorable as the broadcloth of the 
merchant whose ships are in every port. The black- 
5 



66 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

smith's hammer is as honorable as the sheriff's staff, 
The busy hum of labor, is as eloquent as the plea of 
the lawyer, or the charge of the judge. And so all 
those men who have been truly great have regarded 
it. Washington was not ashamed to acknowledge 
himself a farmer, and when his services were re- 
quired by his country, he went from his field to the 
presidency, and when he had accomplished his mis- 
sion, he retired to his toil again. A large majority 
of the men who have been members of Congress, have 
been hard-working, industrious farmers and mechanics, 
who have been selected by the people, as best adapted 
to aid in the councils of the nation. The best and 
greatest men we have, are found to be those who re- 
gard labor as an honor rather than a crime. An 
amusing anecdote is related of Prof. Stuart, one of the 
best scholars of the age, which illustrates his opinion 
of that class of men who despise toil, and seek to 
avoid it: " A student from one of the southern 
States, in the Theological Seminary at Andover, had 
purchased some wood and was exceedingly embar- 
rassed at being unable readily to obtain some one to 
saw it for him. He went to Prof. Stuart, to inquire 
what he should do in such an unfortunate predicar 
ment. The learned professor replied, that he was out 
of a job himself, and he would saw it for him." * 
II. Frugality. If there is a contemptible man 

* Arvine's Cyclopaedia 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 67 

on earth, one who seen)s to have lost sight of the 
true design of life, one who has no idea of true en- 
joyment, it is the avaricious miser. It is a sad sight 
to see a human being, whose spirit will soon stand 
before God, and whose body will erelong crumble 
back to dust and ashes, heaping up gold, only that 
he may hide it from every gaze but his own, that he 
may count it over and over, and dream about it at 
night, and gloat over it by day, and die. It is also 
disgusting to see a man, who if he does not go to 
such an extreme, seems desirous of keeping all he 
gets, refusing the calls of benevolence, denying the 
claims of nature, that he may retain what he by 
honesty or dishonesty, may have secured. But if 
avarice and covetousness are to be condemned, so 
are extravagance and prodigality. There are many 
young men hi the country , who practise no economy 
in their pecuniary transactions. While they have 
money, it goes with a lavish hand. The present mo- 
ment, they provide for, and leave the future to care 
for itself. It matters not whether their income is 
three hundred or three thousand dollars, they spend 
it all, and until they come to the bottom of the purse, 
they live high and fast. I think I may be allowed 
to say that extravagance is one of the sins of youth. 
In the desire which young men have to avoid a 
mean, niggardly spirit, they are apt to lean to the 
side of prodigality, and become spendthrifts. This is 



68 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND, 

the reason why we find so few men who are in posses- 
sion of any considerable amount of property. Every 
desire must be gratified, every wish complied with, 
and thus thousands are kept poor, who otherwise 
would be in independent circumstances. Fortunes are 
squandered every year by those who in after life will 
look back with regret to the scenes of youth ; squander- 
ed, too, to secure objects which are entirely worthless. 

I will not, of course, specify the particulars in 
which economy may be practised. They will readi- 
ly present themselves to your own minds, and if 
you will appeal to your past experience, short as 
it may have been, you will find it confirming my 
statement. True, the amount spent daily in the pur- 
chase of useless things is small. When looked at by 
itself, it seems an insignificant sum ; but multiply it 
by the days in the year, and the number of years of 
life, and it is magnified to a competency, which no 
man would despise. 

Beside the tendency of extravagance to poverty, 
it is the basis of many habits equally pernicious 
as itself. The prodigal knows not when. to stop. 
His own substance he wastes with riotous living, 
the portion which he inherits from father or mother, 
is scattered like the leaves before the blasts of 
Autumn, and unless his heart is doubly guarded 
against temptation, he will resort to fraud or for- 
gery to maintain the position in society which his 



iTOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 69 

extravagance has purchased for him. The income of 
most young men is small. If they have many wants 
to gratify, that income will be insufficient for them, 
and some other source of revenue must be found. 
Those little "six cent" desires which accumulate so 
fast, are the ones which drive so many hundreds of 
young men to the gaming-table, and induce them to 
become worthless, idle, and dissipated. Extrava- 
gance is the parent of many crimes, and has destroy- 
ed fortunes, blasted characters, and been to our young 
men the prolific source of evil and sorrow. The re- 
cords of bankruptcy, the gaming-table, the cell of the 
forger, the prison of the felon, are all eloquent upon 
this subject, and utter their mournful lessons of wis- 
dom and experience, 

" Look round, the works of waste behold, 
Estates dismember'd, mortgag'd, sold ! 
Their owners now to jails confin'd, 
Show equal poverty of mind." 

III. Temperance. Intemperance has long been 
a fearful scourge. Though checked and controlled 
to some extent now, it is still makiiig fearful ravages. 
Years ago almost all men were in the habit of using 
intoxicating liquors. Through whole communities but 
few could be found, who had rigidly abstained from its 
use. The farmer could not plough his field without 
it. The mechanic could not hew his timber, or fashion 
his iron, without it. The lawyer could not prepare 



70 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

his brief, the physician could not visit liis patients 
without it. The minister could not preach without it, 
and doubtless many of the sermons of our old divines 
were written and delivered under its influence. It 
was used at the marriage festival, and in the chamber 
of mourning, in the halls of the living, and over the 
graves of the dead. It was the companion of soli- 
tude, and the friend of the crowded assembly; it 
held dominion in the house of God, and amid scenes 
of violence and disorder. But times have changed. 
Intemperance, open, reeling intemperance, has become 
disreputable and criminal, and we shrink from the ex- 
ample of the tattered inebriate as from the pestilence. 
But still intemperance in other forms, is almost as 
prevalent as in the days of our fathers. The wine- 
cup is circulated freely and fearlessly, and hundreds 
of young men are ruined by it annually. Now suc- 
cess in life is out of the question unless the wine-cup 
and the maddening bowl are totally abjured, unless 
rigid, consistent, manly temperance is made the rule of 
life. Drink tendeth to poverty, and bankruptcy; ruin, 
rags and misery are as sure to follow a course of in- 
temperance, as is light to follow the rising of the sun. 
I knew a young man, who three years since, was vir- 
tuous, loved, and respected. He had just established 
himself in business, and was exceedingly prosperous. 
He was often seen in the house of God, and around 
liim a little family w r as congregated. His connections 



FOUK SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 71 

were respectable, and his prospects in life were quite 
propitious. He had an intelligent and lovely com- 
panion, whom he had taken from a home of wealth, 
refinement, and happiness. He had everything to 
make him comfortable, and lead him up to virtue and 
to God. But he loved his wine, and deemed it an 
innocent beverage. Hence he drank it, and became 
drunken. Step by step he descended the drunkard's 
pathway. Day by day he became more habituated 
to the fearful vice. Soon all restraint was gone, 
business was neglected, home deserted, family abused, 
confidence and reputation gone, and the once pros- 
perous and respectable young man has now become 
an outcast and a vagabond. Month by month, I 
have seen the cheek of the wife grow pale, and lines 
of sorrow traced on her once happy countenance. 
Week by week I have seen her come bending to 
the sanctuary, to find solace here in the worship of 
her God. Day by day has she toiled to earn money 
and clothing to send to that husband who has desert- 
ed her, and whom she follows like a ministering an- 
gel. Three years have been sufficient to accomplish 
the whole, to blast the fondest hopes, to crush the 
highest aspiration, to shroud a family in ruin, to break 
the heart of a wife, to bring disgrace upon the child, 
to make the hair of the father grey with sorrow, (not 
with age), and send the unhappy cause of all this, 
along the streets, a howling, infuriated drunkard. 



72 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

" Ah ! drinking ! drinking ! bane of life, 
Spring of tumult, source of strife, 
Could we but half thy curses tell, 
The world could wish thee safe in hell.' , 

And yet with the fact before them, that intempe- 
rance is destructive to life, health, property, busi- 
ness, to all things good, many of our young men are 
bringing by the use of wine, ruin upon themselves 
and their families. Though the Golgotha of drunken- 
ness is before their eyes, though all the past is point- 
ing to the long army of inebriates who have perished 
in the march of time, yet they drain the cup, swallow 
" the beverage of hell," as though it was the water 
of life. 

IV. Honesty. This I conceive to be the crown- 
ing excellence of youth. An honest young man has 
in his bosom a treasure of more real value than 
the wealth of nations. Should I be asked, what 
would most contribute to a man's success, in any vo- 
cation whatever, I would reply : Honesty. Should 
I be asked what would most certainly prevent suc- 
cess, I would reply : Dishonesty. Now it occurs, 
that to dishonest practices, the young men of our land 
are particularly exposed. While females are pro- 
tected from the temptations to this sin, while from the 
peculiarity of their situation in society, they are to a 
considerable extent secure, young men are surround- 
ed with inducements and temptations. Just com- 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 73 

mencing life, they wish to do well, and not unfre- 
quently imagine, that to succeed they must make 
money fast, and get rich quick, and hence to secure 
this, will embark in many a scheme of doubtful char- 
acter. The expenses of poor young men are gene- 
rally more than equal to their income, and if they are 
bent on living extravagantly, they will be tempted to 
enter into many a course of folly and crime to obtain 
the necessary funds. But however expert the dis- 
honest man may be, however long he may go on un- 
interrupted in his villany, however successful he may 
be at the onset, he will assuredly fail. The forger 
cannot long continue that sin without, detection; the 
counterfeiter will assuredly be taken in his own snare ; 
the gambler will come to poverty, and the thief 
will bring himself to the prison and the dungeon. 
There is no safety for a young man in the early pe- 
riod of life, without strict and unbending integrity in 
word and deed. Complete failure will sooner or later, 
come upon every man who does not subscribe to the 
principles of rectitude. I know that dishonesty is 
prevalent. I know that it exists everywhere, and to 
a fearful extent enters into all the affairs of life. As 
Shakspeare says : 

" To be honest, as this world goes, 
Is to be one picked out of ten thousand." 

Not seldom is the clerk taught to inform the cus- 
tomer, that certain goods cost such a sum, that they 



74 THE YOUNG MAN'S ERIESTD. 

are durable and fashionable, when he knows it to be 
false. Not seldom is the ignorance of the purchaser 
made the cause of a " good trade," and apprentices 
are led to look upon such a fraud as a harmless trans- 
action. In these and a thousand other ways are the 
principles of honesty shamefully violated and out- 
raged, and the basis is laid for a long and aggravated 
course of crime and duplicity. But the old maxim, 
" honesty is the best policy," will be found to be true 
in all the transactions of life. What though a man 
does make a momentary advance in his business t>y 
dishonesty ? What though at the end of each year 
he is a hundred dollars richer than he would have 
been but for his fraud ? What though he may have 
enlarged his store and beautified his residence, and 
secured the smiles of the wealthy ? What though he 
is enabled to ride in his carriage, and dress in gilt 
and gold ? Will not the vengeance of God follow 
him ? Will not his ill-gotten gains rust and canker 
his heart ? Will not commercial distress or some 
other element of destruction sweep away his property, 
taking the well-earned with the ill-gotten ? 

I knew a young man who started in life with high 
hopes and prospects. He had a little property to 
commence with, and was determined that it should 
increase at all hazard. Honestly or dishonestly, he 
was bound to be rich. His motto was, " All is right 
m trade," and well did he carry it out Ho thought 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. T5 

it was the duty of bis customers to find out de- 
fects in the goods which they purchased of him ; 
they were the ones to discover what was bad in the 
bargain. He supposed he was clear when he had 
made the sale, and felt compelled by no principle of 
morality to help his customers make good bargains. 
Thus it continued awhile. He would openly boast 
of having made this sum and that sum, from this and, 
that person. He seemed to be growing rich, his 
place of business was crowded. His fair stories and 
smooth looks, drew a crowd of visitors, and for awhile 
he made money very rapidly. But the curse — God's 
curse was on him and his business. When he least 
expected it, a great failure in another city occurred, 
the intelligence of which came upon him like a clap 
of thunder in a cloudless day. Other failures follow- 
ed, and he began to reap the reward of his dishonesty. 
When he began to sink, reports of his dishonesty, 
which until then had been hushed, spread like wild- 
fire, and soon he found it impossible to continue 
his business. Those who had money and goods were 
afraid of him. Confidence in his character was gone, 
and he was obliged to relinquish business entirely, 
move from the fine house in which he lived, and 
become a clerk, and was looked upon with suspicion 
even at that. I have known other men in business, 
who have met with disasters and failures, and have 
stood unaffected by them, superior to their crushing 



76 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

influence, from Jhe simple fact that they werelionest 
men, and could look community in the face with a 
consciousness that though they were unfortunate, 
they were not guilty. Thompson in his lectures tc 
young men, states the following fact, which to mj 
owti mind, is of considerable interest. " The late 
president of the United States Bank, once dismissed 
a private clerk, because the latter refused to write for 
him on the Sabbath. The young man, with a mother 
dependent on his exertions, was thus thrown out of 
employment, by what some would call an over-nice 
scruple of conscience. But a few days after, when 
the President was requested to nominate a cashier for 
another bank, he recommended this very individual, 
mentioning this incident as a sufficient testimony to 
his trustworthiness. ' You can trust him,' said he, 
'for he would not work for me on the Sabbath.'" 
Awhile since, a young man was dismissed from his 
place, because he would not become party to a false- 
hood, by which refusal the firm failed to secure seve- 
ral hundred dollars which did not belong to them, but 
which they expected to obtain. For the crime of 
honesty ana truth the young man was dismissed from 
his position. A few days afterwards hearing of a va- 
cant situation, he applied for it. The merchant who 
wished for an accountant, asked if he could refer him 
to any individual with whom he w T as known, and who 
would recommend him as an upright young man 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 77 

With conscious innocence, and firm in his uprightness, 
he replied, " I have just been dismissed from Mr. 

-'s, of whom you may inquire. He has tried 

me, he has known me." When applied to, his former 
employer gave a full and free recommendation, and 
added, " He was too conscientious about little mat- 
ters." The young man is now partner in a large 
firm in Boston, and is apparently becoming rich. 

A multitude of cases might be added, illustrating 
the value of honesty, and the great danger and shame 
of falsehood and fraud. Business men will rehearse 
them to you by scores, and prove that under any cir- 
cumstances, " honesty is the best policy." And so 
you, my young friends, will find it in all your deal- 
ings with your fellow-men, and as you grow older in 
life, the conviction will become stronger and deeper, 
that a good reputation for honesty and manliness is 
above all price. 

" The purest treasure mortal lives afford, 
Is spotless reputation ; that away, 
Men are but gilded worms or painted clay." 

Remember these things as you advance in life, my 
young brethren, and as you grow older preserve your 
integrity. Be above the little arts and tricks of 
small men, and if you grow rich, let it be by honest 
and patient industry. Build not up a fortune from 
the labors of others, from the unpaid debts of credi- 



78 THE YOUNG MAN' 8 FKIEND 

tors, from the uncertain games of chance, but from 
manly effort which never goes unrewarded. Never 
ongage in any business unless you can be honest in 
it ; if it sill not give a fair living without fraud, leave 
it, as yoa would the gate of death. If after all, you 
are poor, if by exerting yourself nobly and manfully, 
if by living honestly and uprightly you cannot secure 
a competency, then submit to poverty, aye, to hard, 
grinding poverty. Be willing, if it must be so, to 
breast the cold tide of want and sorrow, see your 
flesh waste day by day, and your blood beat more 
heavily, than make yourself rich, at the expense of 
honesty. 

There are other sources of success in life, which 
might be mentioned, but these four will suffice for the 
present discourse. If a young man is industrious, 
frugal, temperate, honest, he will also have manj 
other valuable traits of character. These never go 
alone. They bring a countless host of virtues and 
blessings in their train. Remember also that it is 
not our whole object to become rich and happy here. 
We are immortal. There is a life beyond this — a 
world to come. 

" Oh ! what is life 1 At best a brief delight, 
A sun, scarce bright'ning ere it sinks in night ; 
A flower, at morning fresh, at noon decayed ; 
4 still, swift river, gliding into shade." 

We know that delight will soon be gone : that sue 



FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 79 

will set, perhaps in tears ; that flower will droop, 
wither and decay; that river will flaw on, until no 
human eye shall be able to trace its progress ; but 
the life of the soul continues, and is to be affected for 
weal or woe, for countless ages, by its narrow and 
limited stay on earth. How terrible, then, is man's 
mission ! how solemn his responsibilities ! how glo- 
rious his destiny ! 

" 'Tis God's all-animating voice 

That calls thee from on high ; 
} Tis his own hand presents the prize 

To thine uplifted eve ; — 
That prize, with peerless glories bright, 

Which shall new lustre boast, 
When victors' wreaths and monarcha' gems 

Shall blend in common dust." 



LECTURE IV. 

INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the 
heaven. Ecclesiastes, iii. I. 



WE 



ITH pride and exultation the votary 
of pleasure will often refer to the 
rst few verses of the chapter, from 
which my text is taken, and draw 
from them an argument in favor of sin and folly. 
Is there not a time to laugh and a time to dance? 
Does not inspiration tell us, that mirth and cheer- 
fulness are allowable, and that the sports of the 
world are proper ? Have we not the example of 
men in all ages ; not the profane and sinful 
merely, but the best and noblest of our race ? 
These and kindred questions are put to us with 
triumph by the seekers of pleasure of all kinds, who 
profess to be acquainted with the chapter under 
consideration, if they are ignorant of all the other 
sacred writings. They seem to have made this their 
study, quote it with freedom, and seem wonder- 

(80) 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 81 

fully impressed with the truth of Scripture, when they 
can bring it to bear upon the pursuit of their worldly 
and carnal amusements,. and plead the example of 
soma of the wise and good men who have fallen into 
error. 

But those who read with attention the works of 
Solomon, could never come to any such conclusion. 
Raised by God to the throne, he was surrounded 
with everything to make him happy. His kingdom 
was glorious, the fame of his administration spread 
over the world, and wealth poured^its streams lavishly 
at his feet. Surrounded by life's brightest scenes, 
he sought awhile his pleasure in them, he builded 
houses, he planted vineyards, he obtained men-singers 
and women-singers, he had instruments of music, and 
in every possible way strove to satisfy the longings 
of his nature for happiness. Labor, wealth, skill, 
time, were not spared, but all contributed to the 
monarch's pleasure. Thus he lived awhile, until the 
whole head was sick, and the whole heart faint — until 
he was convinced that all the objects of his earthly 
pursuits had no abiding bliss, and he turned from 
them, exclaiming, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." 

Nor will the declaration of the wise man, that 
there is " a time to dance," extenuate any of the 
sinful amusements of the present age. He no more 
intended to justify that debasing and ruinous sys- 
tem, which we have at present, than to justify muis 
6 



82 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

der when he said, there is " a time to kill." The 
dancing of the ancients was a religious and healthy 
recreation. It had no resemblance to what we call 
dancing no,v. It was performed with pure and ele- 
vated motives, and had no tendency to debase the 
mind or pollute the heart. One writer, thinks that 
" it always was a religious exercise ; that dancing for 
amusement was sacrilege ; that men who diverted it 
from a sacred use were deemed infamous, and de- 
clares, that there are no instances upon record in the 
Bible of social dancing for amusement, except that of 
the vain fellows, void of shame, alluded to in Mi- 
cah; of the irreligious families described by Job, 
which produced increased impiety and ended in de- 
struction ; and of Herodias, which terminated in the 
rash vow of Herod, and the death of John the Bap- 
tist." All the cases, except these, were on occasions 
of religious festivity. Dancing was merely a token 
of joy and gratitude to God. It generally followed 
great victories, and was attended with sacred songs, 
and the sound of many musical instruments. As men 
now clap their hands and shout when any gratifying 
event has transpired, so the ancients sang and danced 
over their victories. The two sexes never united in 
it; men danced alone, and maidens danced alone. 
They crowded not into penirup halls, they were not 
excited with wine, they were not impelled by passion, 
they were not moved by lust. The green earth was 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 88 

their festive hall, the bright sun was their chandelier, 
the golden flowers shed their fragrance, and nature's 
own temple gave back the echo of their glad songs. 
To compare the pure, chaste worship of the ancients, 
with the brutish dancing of the present time, and jus- 
tify one by the other, is to cast dishonor upon God, 
and insult the memory of his worshippers. 

The only object had in view by the monarch wri- 
ter, seemed to be the promulgation of the sentiment, 
that for all things there is an appointed time ; 
that joy and sorrow, work and play, will come in 
their order, and each should be attended to in its 
proper place. He did not attempt to defend vice, or 
offer a plea for the indiscriminate pursuit of pleasure. 
All his writings abound with warnings and cautions, 
and utter loudly their remonstrance against every 
course of sin. 

Without further introduction I will turn your at- 
tention to innocent amusements, as the subject 
for consideration. I do not design to offer an 
apology for any of the vain amusements and se- 
ductions of the world, or lead you to look with less 
disapprobation upon the vices by which we are sur- 
rounded. Accursed they are, and accursed they 
will remain. The press may plead for them, the pul- 
pit may apologize for them, and the whole country 
may be bent on their pursuit, but God's displeasure 
will follow them, and their votaries. I simply wish 



84 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

to offer a few thoughts on amusements, and show thai 
the highest pleasures, are the pleasures of innocence, 
and that sinful amusements fail to accomplish theii 
object. Hence I remark, 

I. Men need, and will have some .kinds ob 
■recreation. The body was not made for constant 
toil, the mind was not formed for constant study. 
God has not ordained that life shall be spent in one 
continued series of efforts to secure the things of this 
world. He has fitted man for enjoyment, as well as 
labor, and made him susceptible of pleasurable emo- 
tions. He did not design him for a slave, to dig the 
earth awiiile and die ; to toil on until the hour of death 
comes to conduct a shattered system back to dust 
and ashes. On the other hand, he has given him a 
physical system which like the harp, may be touched 
to any tune. He has made the eye, the ear. the 
mouth, all inlets of pleasure. He has so constituted 
us, that we may be wound up to the highest degree 
of pleasure, and receive through the medium of the 
senses a flood of happiness. Besides this, he has ar- 
ranged the outward w T orld in such a manner, as to 
give man the highest enjoyment. Had God designed 
man for ceaseless labor, he would not have given him 
such a body as he now possesses, he would have dark- 
ened the eye, deadened the ear, and blunted all the 
nicer sensibilities, and made the hand as hard as iron, 
and the foot as insensible as brass. But formed for 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 85 

enjoyment, we find men seeking it. After the labor 
of the day is over, and the toil of life done, they turn 
to every quarter to find some source of recreation, 
some avenue of fife which is fragrant with flowers and 
which echoes with sweet music. Now this desire for 
recreation instead of being quenched, should be con- 
trolled and directed ; instead of being totally dis- 
couraged, it should be turned into pure and holy 
channels, and made to result in the good of man, and 
the glory of God. One great mistake made by the 
Puritans, arose from a desire to suppress all amuse- 
ments, to quench in man the desire for mirth and 
recreation, to make youth as sedate and grave as age, 
the child as sober and solemn as the sire. Hence 
instead of making the Sabbath a day of holy rest and 
calm enjoyment, they made it a season of constraint 
and fear. Children, instead of loving to have its sa- 
cred hours arrive, and hailing them with gladness, 
looked forward to the day as one of tedious, irksome 
slavery, on which they would be required to engage 
in meaningless services, answer difficult questions, 
and sit the live-long day with folded hands, and 
downcast eyes They pursued the same course in 
relation to other things. Sinful amusements were 
strictly forbidden, and severely punished. By the 
pulpit and the press they were denounced, and yet 
no measures were taken to substitute innocent plea- 
sures in their stead, or furnish panting youth with 



86 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

any reasonable source of relaxation. The conse- 
quence was, the young chafed under these restraints 
awhile, and then broke over them, and rushed out 
into paths of folly and destruction. 

Not unfreqaently we hear parents lamenting that 
they cannot keep their children at home ; that they 
do not love home ; that very early in life they have a 
desire for the company of strangers, and as soon as 
they are old enough will wander away from the 
mother's prayer, and the father's counsel. But on 
investigation w T e generally find that such parents are, 
to a considerable extent, responsible for the conduct 
of their children. They have failed to make home 
what it ought to be. They have not made it attrac- 
tive and pleasant. They have not provided amusing 
and profitable books, and spread around the hearth- 
side those allurements which are necessary to engage 
the attention, and secure the presence of the young. 
It is impossible for us to love unlovely objects, and 
home cannot be loved, if the father's countenance 
wears a perpetual frown ; if the mother is fractious 
and childish ; if occasional disputes disturb the har- 
mony and prosperity of tin circle ; if no book is found 
on the shelf ; if no kindly sympathies are felt and ex- 
pressed. The secret of saving children from destruc- 
tion consists to a great extent, in making home lovely 
and attractive, and did parents understand this secret 
they would not be called upon so frequently to bewail 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 87 

the conduct of prodigal sons, and mourn over the de- 
struction of fallen daughters. A clergyman told me, 
a few days since, that he had a son, who, when quite 
a child manifested an uneasy and roving disposition. 
Home did not appear attractive, and on every occasion 
he would steal away to spend the evening in the com- 
pany of strangers. Filled with anxiety, the father 
began to look about for a remedy. He watched his 
son, and endeavored to discover the bent of his incli- 
nation. He saw that the boy had a fondness for mu- 
sic, that he would visit those places where singers re- 
sorted, and where musical instruments could be found. 
He saw that he was most willing to visit those fami- 
lies where the piano was an article of parlor furniture, 
and where the violin or the harp made their melody. 
His course was founded on this discovery. He pur- 
chased at considerable expense an instrument of mu- 
sic, and spread through his parlor, note-books and 
songs, everything of that kind which the father's 
means would allow was furnished, and soon the son 
became as fond of home, as he had previously been 
of strangers. His talent was for music, but as he 
could not enjoy it at home, he searched for it where 
it was ; but when music came to cheer his own dwell- 
ing, he had no occasion to leave the warm hearth-side 
of parental kindness. Were I speaking exclusively 
to parents, I would urge them, to make home happy, 
to keep all strife and bitterness away, and ever in the 



88 1HE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

presence of children wear a contented and cheerful 
look. If you feast, let it be at home, and let chil- 
dren partake of the, good things ; if you have newspa* 
pers in your family, have among the rest, one adapted 
to your children ; if the profound, logical work which 
you read yourself, lies upon the table, let one bft be- 
side it, adapted to your children. Make them tHnk 
that no place on earth can compare with home, rvnd 
as they grow older, find amusement and recreat ; on 
for them. Be not afraid to hear them laugh, though 
the house rings. Waen they wish for sport, do not 
drive them out into the street, or into the house of a 
good-natured neighbor, but bear a little,; and remem- 
ber that you were once a child. 

The same remarks are applicable to a whole com- 
munity. If there are no seasons of reasonable and 
pure pleasure, the young will resort to enjoyments 
which are vicious and destructive. If the social cir- 
cle, the literary lecture, the musical concert, the de- 
bating association, the- circulating library are not 
found, the theatre, the gaming-table, the ball-room, 
the brothel, will have full success. The young man 
needs relaxation and change, he must have it, it is in 
accordance with the laws of his nature, and if he can- 
not find it in innocent, he will resort to sinfrl plea- 
sures. 

I am acquainted with a town which a few years 
ago was notorious for the variety and extent of its 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 89 

sinful amusements. Every evening the festive hall 
was lighted, theatrical performances were crowded 
with visitors, the strolling circus found ready access, 
and the curse of God seemed to have settled on the 
place. Pure religion died out, virtue seemed about 
to follow, and error and sin reigned triumphant. At 
length two young men determined to use their influ- 
ence to check the progress of vice, and looking at the 
matter philosophically, they went to work. They first 
formed a debating society; then invited a learned 
gentleman to give them a series of weekly lectures ; 
established an evening-school, and in these various 
ways attempted to direct the mind from sinful to 
innocent amusements. They were successful. The 
dancing became less frequent, theatrical performances 
found less encouragement, the circus was denied ad- 
mittance, and the whole appearance of the town 
changed, and from being one of the most vicious, it 
has become one of the most moral and respectable 

JL 

places in the State. A few years wrought an entire 
change. Had they commenced declaiming against 
sinful amusements without providing innocent ones, 
they might have declaimed until the day of doom. 

This subject is an important one, and I am glad 
to see the attention of the public turned to it. . Men 
of thought, and men of action are looking upon it 
in a philosophical light, and I trust the day ia 
not far distant when young men will not be driven 



90 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

to vicious and degrading amusements to find relaxa- 
tion. 
II. That the various amusements which have 

BEEN DEVISED FOR THE EXPRESS PURPOSE OF GIV- 
ING RELAXATION HAVE THUS FAR ALL FAILLD. 

The object of amusement is to draw off the mind from 
more serious and toilsome things, and fit it, after a 
temporary relaxation, to return to the duties of life 
with new zeal and ability. Anything which can im- 
pair the health, weaken the intellect, corrupt the 
heart, defeats this object. Anything which brings 
weariness and exhaustion, and fatigue, and unfits 
man to perform the duties of life, is not amusement, 
but vice. Hence, as we look at dancing, at theatri- 
cal performances, at gambling, and at the various 
modes of sinful pleasure, we find that instead of re- 
lieving the mind from care, and fitting the body for 
toil, they are defeating the only object for which re- 
laxation can be sought, they are only adding new 
cares, new toils, new sorrows. Ask Consumption and 
she will tell you of the wasting form of the dancer, 
the hollow cough, and the weary limbs. Go into the 
chamber of merriment, and you will see men and wo- 
men dying at half an age. Go to the gambling-saloon, 
and' you will observe the blood-shot eye, the haggard 
cheek, the trembling lip. Go to the theatre, and 
you will find the victims of excitement, their minds 
warped, ani their ideas of life all discolored and dia- 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 91 

fcorted. Look at any of the schemes of pleasure 
which have been devised to while away time, to oc- 
cupy the hours of evening without benefit, and you 
will find they have failed to accomplish their pur- 
pose. They give no relaxation. Perhaps at first, 
dancing and theatres, were less objectionable than at 
present, perhaps they gave pleasure and served as 
recreation ; but they have become so corrupted, so 
debasing, that I see not how a virtuous person can 
engage in them. The object of their establishment 
has not been accomplished. And thus it will con- 
tinue to be with all the vast variety of sinful amuse- 
ments. However harmless and simple they may be 
at the beginning, they will grow worse and worse, 
and instead of serving as pleasant, healthy recrea- 
tion, will tend to vitiate, corrupt, and impair. 

Man was made for usefi lness. He was designed by 
God to get good and do good, and hence any amuse- 
ment to subserve well its purpose, must be blended 
with utility. But such is not the case with the throng 
of sinful pleasures by w T hich we are encompassed. 
There is no utility about them. They are not formed 
to benefit, but to amuse ; not to instruct, but please. 
The theatre does not make men wiser, better, or 
happier, The ball-room does not lighten the load of 
life, or take one care from the burdened mind. The 
gaming-table does not make life fighter, or kindle up 
hope in any desolate soul. If the heart is sad and 



92 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

bleeding, if the mind is clouded and perplexed, if the 
conscience is in trouble, and sorrow is brooding over 
the soul, a resort to any of these pleasures will only 
add new bitterness to every cup, and gather a denser 
darkness around the sinner's path. Thus men will find 
it, sooner or later. They may for awhile find what 
they call amusement in the vain and sinful inventions 
of the age ; they may silence the voice of conscience 
for a time, and in the busy whirl of pleasure and 
gayety, pass on heedless of the admonitions which are 
given them, but the end will come, and these plear 
sures will prove to be sources of vexation and sorrow 
III. Some amusements, which are harmless. 

AND WHICH BLEND UTILITY WITH PLEASURE. That 

there are such amusements, you are all ready to ad- 
mit, but the usual objection urged against them is. 
that they are tame and un 1 atisfying. With pervert- 
ed tastes, the followers of ohe world fail to perceive 
the true, substantial pleasure which flows from use- 
ful amusements. But with a pure and uncorrupted 
taste, with a heart feelingly alive to what is truly 
good, useful amusements are full of recreation and 
enjoyment. While others fail to give the desired re- 
laxation, these are completely successful ; they un- 
bend the mind awhile from life's severer duties, and 
permit it to return to those duties doubly prepared tc 
perform them, A few of them I will briefly enu- 
merate. 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 93 

1. Useful reading. In these days of book-making, 
when the press is tlirowing off its daily and* hourly 
burden of valuable and worthless volumes, w r e need 
be at no loss to make a w r ise and judicious selec- 
tion to amuse, instruct, and benefit. Books of travel, 
of history, of science, of philosophy, of morals, of 
religion, are abundant, and within the reach of all 
young people. Whatever may be our peculiar feel- 
ings and inclinations, tastes and habits, w r e can find 
some kind of reading which will benefit us. If 
we desire to become acquainted with the past, to 
know how men have lived, and where they were 
buried, and what have been their habits, volumes of 
history, written in the various styles of authors hav- 
ing different national and mental peculiarities, and 
abounding with information of every character, are 
in our hands. If we have an inclination to travel, 
and possess not the means for enjoying this privilege, 
we may find the most delightful accounts of voyages 
and journeys, and at our own firesides, travel the 
wide world over. With the author we may ascend 
the highest mountains, and descend into the lowest 
caverns ; we may visit temples, cathedrals, and pago- 
das ; we may journey to every clime, become familiar 
■with the people of all lands, and ere we have traveled 
beyond the limits of :>ur own native town, may be ac- 
quainted with the customs and manners of all earth's 
tribes. If we wish to study the sciences, and learn 



94 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

the discoveries of the wisest men, we have their 
works, their minds portrayed on paper, spread out 
before our gaze, and ready for our use. And while 
we have these, there is no occasion to resort to fie 
tion, tragedy, and dramatic pleasures. The drama 
has nothing to compare for interest, with the realities 
of science, and there is nothing in fiction which will 
equal the realities of history. The drama is tame, 
and tasteless, compared with the history of the past, 
and there are scenes every year transpiring on the 
great theatre of the world, which make even the fic- 
tions of the most glowing writers appear insipid. 
Now reading is a recreation which combines pleasure 
with utility, amusement with profit. It does not wea- 
ry the body,*it does not exhaust the mind, it does not 
corrupt the heart. It brings vigor to each, and gives 
relaxation and change, and fits us for the more labo- 
rious and irksome duties of life. An hour spent in 
the dancing-room brings weariness and sorrow; an 
hour spent over a useful book, brings pleasure and 
profit, and expands and enlarges the deathless soul. 

2. Music. There are some who have little or no 
desire to cultivate musical talents, but to others, this 
science is a source of exquisite enjoyment. Indeed 
were it not for the sweet and melting strains of mu- 
sic, many scenes of mirth and festivity would lose all 
their charm, the dancing-hall and the theatre would 
be as dull and senseless as the gambols of a child 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 93 

Now to the lover of harmony there is no scurce of 
recreation more reasonable and delightful. As the 
laboring man returns from toil, weary and dejected, 
the sound of music, and the song of his wife or child 
will cause him to forget his weariness, and lose his 
dejection. The simple lay will be a balsam for his 
wounded spirit, and in the midst of sorrow the heart 
will be glad. Music formed one of the prominent 
amusements of the ancient Hebrews. They sung 
everywhere, and mingled melody with joy or sorrow. 
The royal David with his chief musicians, Asaph, 
Heman, and Jeduthun, with their four thousand assis- 
tants made ceaseless song, and Solomon, his son, the 
wisest man of his age, had men-singers and women- 
singers, and Josephus tells us, that the number of mu- 
sicians employed by him at the dedication of the tem- 
ple was two hundred thousand. The Greeks and Ro- 
mans had their songs and their instruments of music, 
and frequently when they went out to battle, it was 
with the sound of melody. Nor shall we find music 
under proper circumstances to be wearisome or dis- 
sipating. It will give the mind and body relaxation 
and profit, and fail to impair the intellect or deprave 
the heart. 

( Music the fiercest grief can charm, 
And fate's severest rage disarm. 
Music can change pain to ease, 
And make despair and madness please , 
Our joys below it can improve, 
And antedate the bliss above," 



96 THE YOUNG MA1VS FRIEND. 

There is no science which will assist in the manage* 
rn^nt of children, which will serve to soften down hu- 
man nature, and make the heart feel, to such an 
extent, as music. Those therefore who are striving 
to substitute music for the performances of the stage, 
and the dissipation of the festive hall, and the mid- 
night revel, deserve the thanks of community ; and 
musical exhibitions, concerts, and performances should 
be encouraged, not only by the lovers of pleasure, but 
also by the lovers of morality and religion. 

3. Traveling. I know that extensive traveling is 
not within the reach of all, and yet I would recom- 
mend it to all who have the pecuniary ability. If a 
man remains at home all his days, if he shuts him- 
self up within the limits of his own city, and never 
goes forth to behold the world, and admire the works 
of God, his soul will be limited and contracted. He 
will fail to take an enlarged view, and be unable 
to exert an extensive influence. There is something 
in an acquaintance with the world, with men and 
things, which gives the soul breadth and dimension, 
and fits it to take an ample view of the subjects 
which are presented. I am aware that traveling is 
costly ; that long journeys involve much expense. 
All that may be urged on this point will be admit- 
ted. But do I not address some young men, who 
in every five years spend as much in dancing, m 
theatrical entertainments, and in other dissipating 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 97 

amusements, as would pay the expense of a visit to 
Europe, or a voyage to any part of the world. Do I 
not speak to some, who every year squander enough 
to defray the expense of a journey through every 
State in the Union. To those who have the ability, 
traveling is an entertaining and profitable method of 
securing relaxation. 

4. Literary lectures. To afford this kind of re- 
laxation, our lyceums, and lecture courses, have 
been established. They contribute much to the plea- 
sure and profit of society. They draw together many 
who would otherwise be in places of depraved and 
sinful pleasure. These lectures are generally prepar- 
ed with considerable care, and contain whole volumes 
condensed. They frequently present subjects which 
are in themselves dry and uninteresting, and which on 
the printed page would give but little pleasure to the 
reader, but the charm of the living speaker is thrown 
around them, and knowledge is derived which would 
never be drawn from printed volumes. The value 
of these lectures is too little known, and too little ap- 
preciated. Were they more frequent, and better at- 
tended, we should have a more enlightened commu- 
nity, and a more virtuous society, Did they take 
the place of other degrading and disgusting sources 
of amusement, we should not so often behold the 
wrecks of character, and the ruin of unfortunate 
young men We should not so often behold the 
7 



98 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

gray hairs of parents brought in sorrow to the grave, 
or hear them lament so frequently the downfall of 
their prodigal sons. 

5. Social visiting. Young men are not fond of 
visiting. They deem it tedious to call from house to 
house, to seek an acquaintance with society. But if 
they would employ more of their time in this manner, 
they would find it a source of pleasure and profit. 
They would thus be enabled to make valuable ac- 
quaintances, they would see men as they are, and 
not as they appear in public life, they would get a 
deeper insight into human nature, they would escape 
the hollow and heartless salutations of public occa- 
sions, and be able better to understand " life at 
home." I am aware that those who congregate in 
large cities are often destitute of any place which 
they dare denominate home. But others who are 
more fortunately situated, have a duty devolved upon 
them by this very fact ; a duty, too, which has hard- 
ly begun to be understood. In a city like this, the 
doors of every house should be open to our young 
people ; they should be invited frequently to visit our 
families, not as strangers or dependents, but as young 
men who have no homes and firesides of their own. 
Let them know that your parlors and your sitting- 
rooms are always ready to receive them, and when 
they come give them a cordial welcome. 

7. Social gatherings. These are somewhat com- 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 99 

inon in the form of " sewing societies," which young 
people of both sexes attend. They are corrected 
with the various religious congregations, and are on 
the whole, productive of good. Though all social 
gatherings will have some objections attending them, 
yet they are, at least, innocent substitutes for worse 
amusements. Every such society should have some 
benevolent object in view, and in no case should mere 
enjoyment be substituted for utility. While freedom 
should be given to all the social feelings, the great 
fact that we are immortal and accountable, should be 
made prominent. There are other social gatherings 
on various occasions, all of which I would not recom 
mend. Many of them are turned to vicious purposes, 
and are calculated to defeat the object for which 
we seek recreation. There are others in which we 
may freely engage, in which we may take a part, 
and by so doing find bodily and mental relaxation. 
We have been made for society, formed for mutual 
fellowship, and if we find it not in these harmless, we 
shall find it in sinful and depraved circles. 

" To view alone, 
The iairest scenes of land and deep, 
With none to listen, and reply 
To thoughts with which my heart beat high, % 

Were irksome ; for whate'er our mood, 
In sooth, we love not solitude. 

8. Paintings, and other works of art. To most 
of us, the paintings of the great masters are in 



100 THE YOUNG MAN'S EMEND. 

accessible* Those works which the world has ad- 
mired are out of our reach ; but within a few years 
paintings and statuary of less merit have become 
abundant. The late works are well-adapted to the 
common mind, and though in many cases destitute of 
artistic skill, are really valuable in giving us an idea 
of the scenery of various countries which we have 
never visited. These exhibitions form a pleasant and 
profitable mode of securing recreation, and deserve 
the patronage of all young people. The artists in al- 
most all cases are young men, and deserve the sup- 
port of community for the services which they have 
rendered. We have the " Voyage to Europe," the 
" Scenery of the Ehine ;" the " Views of the Missis- 
sippi and Ohio ;" the " Scenery and Battles of Mexi- 
co ;" the " Model of Ancient and Modern Jerusa- 
lem ;" the " Moving Statuary of the Scriptures," 
and a multitude of others which are all deserving of 
notice. 

I might mention many other sources of innocent 
pleasure, which are combined with utility, but these 
will suffice. We are surrounded on all sides with op- 
portunities to enjoy ourselves without becoming the 
patrons of vice, and if we will, we may secure them. 
There is one source of pleasure and relaxation from 
toil, which I ought not to omit in this enumera- 
tion, a source of pleasure and bliss which exceeds 
all others, and is more rational and Godlike, an 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 101 

avocation in which angels are ceaselessly employed. 
I refer to 

9. Religion ; the public and private worship of 
God. I know that to many, the duties of religion 
would be an intolerable hardship. I am aware that 
they would find no pleasure in the closet, or in the 
praying circle, while their hearts remain unchanged, 
but to others the place of prayer is, of all spots on 
earth, the best to find calm and holy satisfaction, to 
obtain relief from sorrow and sin, to unbend the mind 
from the world's perplexities, and centre it on true 
and pure objects, and if you will secure that state 
of mind which will fit you for communion with God, 
you will find in it a more substantial pleasure, than 
this poor Avretched world affords. It will sweeten 
every cup which Divine providence puts to mortal 
lips, and dispel the darkest shadow which ever 
gathers over the sinner's path. 

" Religion is a glorious treasure, 

The purchase of a Saviour's love ; 
It fills the mind with consolation, 
And lifts the soul to things above." 

Here 1 will leav^e the subject, asking you to give it 
that attention which its importance demands. As 
you go out from this house you mil find some sinful 
•amusement presenting its claim on every side. As 
the week rolls away, and you feel the need of recrea- 
tion and change, a score of objects will present them 



102 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

selves, and hold out their tempting offers. On every 
hand you will be beset with vices and seductions. At 
such times remember the claims of God and reason 
Let the fact that you are immortal and accountable, 
that you are not to perish in the grave, but are to 
live on after the destruction of matter, and the world's 
great wreck, and think and act in the vast future, 
admonish you. Contemplate yourself as a young 
man, created by God for a noble purpose, placed in 
this world as a probationer for the next, to live with 
angels or with demons forever. When sin presents 
its claims, when your associates urge you into paths 
of vice and folly, and all around are conspiring to 
shut out the voice of God, and induce thee to destroy 
and wrong thy nobler nature, do it not. Thou art 
immortal, accountable. Let. this thought drive thee 
back from every path of sin. God is thy sire, thou 
art his child ! Let this send thee to his arms. Re- 
member, that 

" The stars shall fade away, the Sun himself 
Grows dim with age, and Nature sinks in years : 
But thou shalt nourish in immortal youth, 
Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 
The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds." 

It is right that man should be happy ; it is proper 
for him to seek amusement and enjoyment. There is 
nothing in nature, nothing in religion which forbid9 
the fall and free enjoyment in a reasonable manner, 



INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 103 

and to a reasonable extent, of all the faculties which 
God has given us ; but while enjoying, we have no 
right to debase ; when seeking pleasure, we have no 
excuse for plucking the poison-flowers of sin. AH 
within us, and around us, utters impressively, " the 
way of the transgressor is hard." While the way of 
life is full of precious tokens of Divine approval, the 
curse of the Almighty, hangs over the way of death, 
and though pleasure may be found for a season, and 
the heart beat gaily in its own fancied, but false se- 
curity, the end will be as dreadful, as the beginning 
was fair and deceitful. Every tree in Satan's gar- 
den, hangs laden with poisoned fruit, and wo to him 
who plucks and eats. 



LECTUEE V. 

DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 
Do thyself no harm. Aots, xvi. 28. 

i^j^HIS passage of Scripture is a part of one 
g\\ of the most interesting narratives which 
^fly can be found in any of the sacred writ- 
ings. It was uttered while Paul was at 
Philippi, a city of Macedonia. On account of 
his religious opinions and teachings he had been 
incarcerated in a dungeon, and in company with 
Silas had been thrust into the inner prison. With 
his free spirit, unbroken by the affliction, he praised 
God at midnight, the whole prison resounded with 
the melody of a song which had never been heard 
there before. The prisoners in their cells heard 
the sweet music. Starting from their slumbeA 
they asked in astonishment, "What is this?" 
and listened with wrapt attention to the heav- 
enly sound as it echoed on the air of night, and 
floated in gentle strains through their dark and 

gloomy dungeons. While they thus sang an earth- 
cm) 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 105 

quake shook the prison, the fetters fell from their 
chafed limbs, and they rose up, leaving their manacles 
behind them. Aroused by the noise and confusion 
of the scene, the jailor arose in terror, and saw the 
doors of his prison open, and the fetters struck from 
the limbs of the prisoners, whom he had been charged 
to keep in safety. Supposing that some had fled, he 
was alarmed, and in fear lest he should be punished, 
drew his sword and would have killed himself. See- 
ing his desperate intention, Paul cried out to him, 
" Do thyself no harm," and by a declaration that 
none had escaped, calmed his fears, and induced him 
to put his sword again into its sheath. 

Like the Philippian jailor, men are now doing them- 
selves (in many instances) inconceivable harm. They 
are their own worst enemies, and are frequently the 
cause of their own destruction. Thus is it with those 
who are living in the practice of the sinful amuse- 
ments of life, and who are bent on the gratification of 
their camal desires at the expense of better and ho- 
lier things. Like a madman they are drawing the 
sword upon themselves, and doing to their own souls 
irrdptrable injury. 

Upon the subject of dangerous amusements, I 
wish this evening to offer a few friendly remarks, and 
by presenting them to you as they appear to my own 
mind, induce you to avoid them as destructive to the 
welfare of this life, and the life to come. In the 



106 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

brief space allowed for a single lecture; I can 
only glance at a few of the most prominent sources 
of sinful pleasure, and by the survey of them, lead 
you to an abhorrence of the whole. I will call your 
attention then, 

TO THE DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS OF OUR TIMES. 

Their number is legion. They are adapted to high 
life, and low life, to youth and age, to every con- 
dition and rank of human beings. They do not exist 
alone in crowded cities, and marts of commerce, but 
make every spot inhabited by man, the scene of their 
operations. Created by God upright, surrounded 
with pure and profitable pleasures, man has forsaken 
them, and sought out many inventions. He has left 
the pure spring of living water, the fountain which 
gushes from the hand of God, and hewn out to him- 
self broken cisterns which can hold no water. Fitted 
for the skies, made by the Creator to look upward, 
and destined for immortality, man has withdrawn his 
gaze from Deity, and fixed it on the earth. Dying 
although he be, he courts disease. Death lurks in 
his path, clad in the livery of heaven, and he stoops to 
embrace the monster, and dies. Nothing that he 
meets in all his progress through life is more decep- 
tive and false, than are the sinful pleasures by which 
Satan wishes to ensure his destruction. The arch- 
fiend, wK r knows well with what material he has to 
deal, has displayed his infernal wisdom in the devices 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 107 

by which every step of youth is beset. The various 
amusements of society have been the ruin of thou- 
sands, who but for them, might have been upright and 
respectable. All along the tide of time, are wrecks 
of characters which have been destroyed by the gild- 
ed fascinations of pleasure. And thousands more 
will be destroyed ere men will open their eyes upon 
the fearful scenes around them, and arise in all the 
strength of human nature, to roll back the waves of 
sorrow. And until this time arrives, these monu- 
ments of wrath will stand ; like sunken rocks at times 
concealed from view, they will involve new victims in 
the snare, and prove the fatal spots where souls are 
wrecked. 

I. The theatre. So much has been said of late 
upon this source of depraved pleasure, that I need 
not dwell much upon it. All good men have united 
in its condemnation, and all bad men have joined in 
its support. 

11 From first to last it was an evil place, 
And now such scenes are acted there, as made 
The devils blush ; and from the neighborhood, 
Angels and holy men, trembling retired." 

I do not say that the theatre cannot be made a 
source of innocent amusement ; I do not affirm that 
the drama cannot be made a source of reasonable en- 
joyment : but I do affirm that it is not. Facts which 
cannot be controverted prove that it has been, and is 



108 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

now, a source of moral corruption. In every city of 
our great country the theatre has been an aceldania, 
and many a father has turned his weeping eyes to- 
wards it, as the spot where his child was decoyed into 
sin, and ruined forever. Says Rev. Mr. East, " 1 
called to see a mother; she was in distress. She 
not merely wept, but wept aloud. ' my child ! ' 
and she wept again. ' my child is just commit- 
ted to prison, and I fear he will never return to his 
father's house,' and then her tears burst forth, and 
with all my firmness I could not help weeping with 
her. I was afraid to ask the cause ; I did not need, 
for she said, ' that theatre ! He was a virtuous, 
kind youth, till that theatre proved his ruinP" 
Nor is this a solitary case. There are mothers 
throughout New England who are shedding like 
tears, over like sorrow. It is the opinion of one of 
the best, most talented, clergymen of our country ; 
a man of age, observation, and long experience, that 
more characters are ruined by the theatre, than by 
any other device of Satan, He says, " I have watch- 
ed the progress of young men, as they have become 
the habitual attendants upon the amusements of the 
stage, and never have I known one to maintain his 
integrity any length of time," The whole history 
of theatrical performances, prove that there is about 
them a corrupting influence, a demoralizing tendency. 
Exciting and fascinating, they secure a large attend- 



DANGEKOUS AMUSEMENTS. 109 

ance, and exert a wide influence. The young are 
dazzled and charmed by the display, and ere they 
are aware, have ventured too far out upon the sea 
of indulgence to return. Not many months ago, I 
visited, at the request of a broken-hearted mother, a 
young man who was confined in prison. As I enter- 
ed the cell and introduced myself to him, I saw shame 
spread over his face, and the blush overcast a counte- 
nance from which vice had not as yet removed all 
trace of beauty. Seating myself by his side, I com- 
menced a kind and cheerful conversation with him. 
He told me that he had been in that place seven 
months, and had several more to remain. His heart 
was bowed with sorrow as he remarked, " that during 
those seven months, he had heard kind words from 
only one person — Ms mother." He described to me 
the course of crime which had made him an outcast 
from society. At the age of twenty-two he had a 
character as fair as ours. His employment was pro- 
fitable, and he was doing well. But he was induced 
to attend the theatre. What he saw there pleased 
him, He went again and again. Soon his income 
would not support his extravagance, The nightly 
visit to the play-house must be abandoned, or he must 
have more money. He endeavored to secure a more 
lucrative business, but failed. He took upon himself 
new duties, but the increase of his income was not 
proportionate to the increase of his expenses. The 



110 THE YOUITG MAN'S FRIEND". 



& 



gaming-table presented itself,, and he became a gam- 
bler. From one step to another he advanced in 
crime. As his heart grew harder, he became bolder 
in sin, and at length committed the crime for which 
he was imprisoned. " 0," said he to me, with a tone 
which I never shall forget, " had I known thai I 
should have come to this, I would have as soon jump- 
ed into the fires of hell, as gone to the theatre." 
When I spoke of reformation, he shook his head, and 
sighed. "This country .is no home for a detected 
thief," he said. Upon looking around his room, I 
found two books ; a Bible which his mother had given 
him, and which had no appearance of having been 
read, and the "Wandering Jew," an obscene, dis- 
gusting novel. He was a melancholy spectacle of 
what the theatre can do, and is doing, to transform 
the fair characters of our young people, and change 
them from upright members of society to degraded, 
detected outcasts. Henry Ward Beecher, in his 
strong, truthful language says, speaking of the thea- 
tre, " Here are brilliant bars to teach the young to 
drink ; here are gay companions to undo in half an 
hour, the scruples formed by an education of years ; 
here are pimps of pleasure to delude the brain with 
bewildering sophisms of license ; here is pleasure, al] 
flushed in its gayest, boldest, most fascinating forms ; 
and few there be who can resist its wiles ; and fewer 
yet, who can yield to them, and escape ruin. If yon 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. Ill 

would pervert the taste, go to the theatre. If you 
would imbibe false views, go to the the&tre. If you 
would efface as speedily as possible all qualms of 
conscience, go to the theatre. If you would put 
yourself irreconcilably against the spirit of virtue 
and religion, go to the theatre. If you would be in- 
fected with each particular vice in the catalogue of 
depravity, go to the theatre. Let parents, who wish 
to make their children weary of home and quiet do- 
mestic enjoyments, take them to the theatre. If it be 
desirable for the young to loathe industry and didac- 
tic reading, and burn for fiery excitements, and seek 
them by stealth, or through pilferings if need be, then 
send them to the theatre." 

2. Dancing. I am well aware, that there are 
different grades of vice and depravity connected with 
this amusement. There are the occasional balls and 
parties, and the regular weekly, or nightly revel. 
While of the former we cannot speak in commenda- 
tion, of the latter we can speak only in terms of en- 
tire disapproval. As they are conducted they are 
sinks of depravity, one of which is sufficient to curse 
a nation. I am yet to find that there is anything 
good about them. Contrived for the gratification of 
the basest passions of the basest classes in society, 
they become the source of a vast amount of profligacy 
and debauchery. They neither tend to give relaxa- 
tion to the exhausted body, nor the care-worn mind ; 



112 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

they do not implant in the soul one single virtuous 
sentiment ; they do not strengthen in any mind the 
virtuous teachings of home, but everywhere are found 
to be prolific causes of corruption and death. Could 
all those who are ruined every year in large cities, by 
this vicious amusement, be brought together, what a 
spectacle would be presented. Men who are now apolo- 
gizing for the vice, would stand aghast ; parents who 
are sending their children to these sinks of corruption 
would as soon send them into a nest of vipers ; young 
men who are bartering their souls away for the miser- 
able mirth, w r ould fly from it, as from the door of hell. 
The broken-down tradesman, the ruined mechanic, 
the once studious lawyer, would appear before us, 
limping from the midnight carousal, to bear witness to 
the damning influence of this school of infamy. Once 
respected, once prosperous in life, once beating with 
high hopes ; now tossed by passion, and driven by 
the storms of vice. Females would come, daughters 
and sisters, who awhile since, suspicion dare not touch, 
and on whose cheek the blush of shame had never 
been seen, now wearing vice like a garment, every 
feature distorted, every sign of innocence blotted 
out, every trace of virtue gone. This is no tale of 
fancy. You have only to look around you to have it 
painfully confirmed. I knew a family awhile since 
who were living in the enjoyment of many of life's 
blessings. The husband and the wife were young, 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 113 

and when I saw them first, a lovely child was twining 
its arms around the mother's form. A year rolled 
away, and there was a change. God in his awful 
providence had removed the child, and left the pa- 
rents in sorrow. Home now seemed dreary, and in- 
stead of seeking solace in the Saviour, they fled to 
the dance and the revel. Soon the woe commenced. 
The mother threw aside her mourning for the gay 
attire of the ball-room, and each of them began to 
drink the bitter waters of vice. Affection for each 
other fled ; strife took the place of contentment and 
quiet ; a separation ensued ; the husband fled, and 
the wife, young, interesting and intelligent, has en- 
tered upon a course of crime which will end in com- 
plete ruin. A happy family has been destroyed, the 
hearts of fiiends have been distressed, and the vows 
of marriage recklessly trampled under foot. 

3. Gambling. This sort of amusement is gene- 
rally regarded as a crime. Those who uphold the 
theatre and the dance, make no plea for this. The 
law looks upon it as a doubtful employment, and none 
but those engaged in it, are willing to be its de- 
fenders. And yet there are few sources of corrup- 
tion more fascinating and deceptive. All men want 
money, and when the prospect of securing a large 
sum in a single night, is held up before us, the eyes 
are dazzled and blinded. Compared with a game of 
chance, the slow process of making a fortune over an 
8 



114 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

anvil or plough, appears to the young exceedingly 
difficult, and they are often led to the gaming-table, 
in order to become rich sooner. Then there is 
something in gaming, when considered as an amuse- 
ment merely, which is well-calculated to captivate, 
The uncertainty, the excitement, the all-absorbing 
interest, lead the mind astray, and he who becomes 
addicted to the vice, and learns to love it, will find 
himself bound in chains stronger than iron. Within 
the last few years gaming has become exceedingly 
prevalent; children are gambling in the streets, their 
sires are gambling in low cellars, while our fashionable 
young men are pursuing the same employment in gay 
and gilded saloons. In almost every street your ears 
are saluted by the sound of the rolling ball, and the 
clattering dice, and the melancholy evidence of the 
prevalence of this vice is on every side. And the re- 
sult will be a community of dishonest men ; a vicious, 
depraved society. 

The idea that a man can be honest while he is 
a confirmed gambler, is absurd. Gambling saps 
the principle of honesty, and makes a man a vil- 
lain in a night. The record of this vice is full 
of cases which are fearfully illustrative of the truth 
of this position. In a short time a man will learn 
to cheat his victim without mercy. He will lead 
turn to the bar, and induce him to drink, and when 
his brain is on fire will lead him back to the board, 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 115 

and rob him of his all. He may know that he 
has a starving wife and child at home, but he cares 
not for that. He may know that the safety of the 
man's reason, and life, and soul, may depend on the 
game, but he cares not. He will cheat him, even 
if he knows his wife and child will starve, or die 
broken-hearted ; he will play and rifle his pockets, 
though he may believe all the while, that the poor 
wretch will be driven to madness, to suicide, to hell. 
The tender mercy of the confirmed gambler is cruel. 
Gold is his god, and to secure it, he would barter 
away the souls of his own children. I know of no 
vice which so effectively hardens the heart, destroys 
all tender feeling, and deadens the soul to things 
which are excellent, as does gambling. The theatre 
and the dance, destructive as they are, are not to be 
compared with it in this respect. Dr. Nott says, 
" The finished gambler has no heart ; he would play 
at his brother's funeral, he would gamble upon his 
mother's coffin." A fact is related on good authori- 
ty,* of gamblers who wished to show their utter 
contempt for all sacred things, and their entire disre- 
gard of all that men deem sacred and divine. After 
various deeds of folly and madness, which exhibited 
their recklessness, they entered at night the charnel- 
bouse of a cathedral, and took from its resting-place 
a corpse which had been buried the same day. Up 
* Rev- W. B. Tappan. 



116 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

through the narrow passage, they bore tl e person of 
the dead, uttering low jokes and blasphemous expres- 
sions. With their clay-cold load they arrived in the 
cathedral, passed within the chancel, lighted up one 
of the candles of the altar, and then placing the 
corpse in a chair by the communion-table, gathered 
around it and engaged in a game of chance. 

4. Social drinking. Intemperance is insidious. It 
does not come at once with its burning streams to 
consume the heart of its victim, but slowly and 
gradually drags itself along, taking one fortress af- 
ter another, until the fashionable, genteel, moderate 
drinker has become the reeling, bloated, degraded 
drunkard. There is something in the idea of taking 
a social glass with a friend, or drinking a cup of 
sparkling wine on some public occasion, exceedingly 
pleasant. The young fail to perceive the danger of 
the practice. They cannot see how it is, that a 
man is led on from moderation to brutal excess, and 
hence use the wine-cup freely, and without fear of any 
evil consequences. The idea that he shall become a 
drunkard, does not enter into the mind of the young 
man when he sips the poison. And thus it has ever 
been with those who have become intemperate. Not 
one of all the thousands who have gone down to a 
drunkard's grave, and have entered upon the scenes 
of a drunkard's eternity, ever supposed that he should 
be a beastly, degraded inebriate. Such an end never 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 117 

presented itself to the mind of any young man, as for 
the first time he drank his social glass. But step by 
step, the habit grew upon him ; day by day the fatal 
spell was thrown around him ; deeper and deeper he 
descended into the vortex of wretchedness, until the 
last lamp which shed its light upon his path was put 
out, the last star of hope sank in darkness. 

I am perhaps addressing those who occasionally 
make use of intoxicating drinks, and who on social oc- 
casions deem it well to take the cup of wine without 
hesitation. You do not perceive any signs of danger, 
and should one remonstrate with you personally, you 
would consider it an insult. " Can I not govern my- 
self ?" you would ask with outraged feelings. " Can 
I not drink when I please, and let it alone when I 
please ?" " Have I no power over my appetite and 
passions ?" The same questions others have asked, 
and -yet been hurried into the whirlpool of dr ankenness. 
Others, when remonstrated with, have been as indig- 
nant as yourself, but have ultimately found that the 
cup was poison, that death lurked beneath its brim, 
that the deathless worm was coiled up there, that it 
burned the soul with deathless flame. I have read 
somewnere of a man who kept a tiger in his house. 
He had secured the animal when it was quite young, 
and by kindness and gentleness had apparently sub- 
dued its ferocious and bloodthirsty disposition. So 
attached to his pet did he become, that he took the 



L18 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

creature to bed with him at night, and let it follow 
turn in his travels. Friends remonstrated, and urged 
the nature of the animal, and predicted danger. The 
foolish man laughed at their fears, and ridiculed the 
idea of danger. At length he went to sleep at night 
as usual with the beast by his side. Turning in his 
bed he drew his hand across one of the paws of his 
favorite. The wound streamed with blood. The 
tiger tasted it. His ferocious nature which had been 
curbed for years was aroused, and when the morning 
came, all that remained of his master was a bleeding, 
mangled corpse. The man who sports with intempe- 
rance in any form, who drinks moderately or im- 
moderately is tampering with the tiger. He will 
realize the truth of Scripture, " at last it biteth like 
a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. " 

5. There are other sources of sinful and dangerous 
amusement, which I need not mention. If you turn 
your gaze over the surface of society, you will find 
abundant evidence upon this subject. Everywhere 
will meet your eye the crowds of men and women 
seeking pleasure in paths that lead to death, and 
on every hand will appear the wrecks of character 
which strew the tide of time. A few objections to 
all sinful pleasures, will close this discourse. 

1. They abuse time. Time was given us for a 
high purpose. It was designed as a season of proba- 
tion, In it, man is to fit himself for eternity, and 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 119 

prepare his soul for a crown in heaven. He has no 
right to squander it in any of the vain employ- 
ments which I have this evening enumerated. We 
are accountable to God, and of nothing will he require 
a more strict account than of our time. If that is 
wasted and abused, his most severe judgments will 
fall upon the guilty head. And what waste of time 
can be more shameful than that of the dancer, or the 
stage-player ? It is a sad and fearful sight to behold 
a being created for immortality, having a deathless 
soul, and soon to stand before God, leaving the purpose 
for which his Maker has designed him, and spending 
the time which will soon run out, in capering around 
a violin until midnight, or watching the grimaces of 
some ridiculously dressed actor, as he attempts to 
mimic the poor forlorn objects of human woe. If 
there is one scene on earth, which is empty, vain, and 
trifling, it is that which the dancing-hall exhibits. 
The gambler hopes to gain gold, but dancers can hope 
for nothing but exhaustion, weariness, and disease. 
Dressed in gilt and tinsel, looking more like some 
specimens of the brute creation than human beings, 
they whirl and tumble about like idiots, or shakers, 
One grand jumble will not satisfy them, but hour after 
hour must be spent in the unhealthy, unreasonable, 
unmeaning service. And how will such give an ac- 
count of their time to God ? Has he given them the 
precious boon of life for such a purpose ? Has he 



120 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

made man immortal that he might spend thus, his 
existence upon the earth ? Not at all ! God had 
no such design in view, and he must look down upon 
these sources of depraved pleasure with infinite ab- 
horrence. If the waste of time was the only objec- 
tion which could be urged against them, it would be 
enough. It would be sufficient to brand them with 
divine and human disapprobation. It would be 
enough to induce every son and daughter of Adam 
to abjure them as destructive to the best interests 
of the human family. 

2. They are destructive to health. This you all 
know. The man must be insane who denies that 
drinking and dancing are calculated to sap the ener- 
gies of the system and destroy life. Were half the 
vigorous constitutions destroyed by an attendance 
upon the house of Grod, that are ruined by the amuse 
ments which are spread around us in such profusion, 
the voice of the whole community would demand that 
houses of public worship should be abolished. Many 
individuals are horror struck, if a protracted meeting 
is held, or, if on the evenings of the week, meetings 
are prolonged an half hour beyond the usual length. 
And yet the persons who make such an outcry see 
no objection to dancing meetings if they are con- 
tinued until morning. They are afraid that Chris- 
tians will suffer, if they sit a single hour in the pray- 
ing circle, even though they be arrayed in warm, 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 121 

comfortable clothing, and yet will resort to the danc- 
ing hall in the most unbecoming and uncomfortable 
apparel, and deem it no outrage upon the laws of 
nature. When this matter shall be seen in its proper 
light, it will be found that to the sinful amusements, 
the sexton is to a great extent indebted for his trade ; 
that more lives are lost by them, than by w r ar. There 
should (if justice had its rule), be a hospital beside 
every dancing hall, and every tippling shop in our 
land, and the broken down specimens of humanity 
who keep these laboratories of death, should behold 
the destruction which they cause. 

3. They lead to extravagance and prodigality. 
The road is not a long one, from affluence to poverty, 
when vice has become a source of amusement and 
daily recreation. We have not to travel far to 
find sad and solemn lessons, teaching the influence 
of vicious pleasure upon the purse and pocket. 
Every city has them. They throng the temple of 
memory. They are living all around us. The great 
cause why so many young men are obliged to aban- 
don business, and retire from the scenes of youth, is> 
not because commercial embarrassments have spread 
over the land, not because business is not profitable, 
but because vicious pleasure is unprofitable, because 
a course of vice will swallow up the most lavish in- 
come, because the ceaseless cry of these depraved 
pleasures is like that of the daughter of the leech, 



122 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

Give, give. To a young man accustomed to had en- 
joyment in the vicious amusements of the day, there 
is no end to expenses. They come thicker and faster, 
like the snow flakes of winter. They multiply and 
increase every day, and soon the course of folly must 
be broken up, or the means for continuing these ex 
cesses, furnished from some other quarter. Do you 
ask the cause of so much bankruptcy ? Look for a 
reply to the sinful amusements of our large cities, 
pursued by their ten thousand votaries. Do you ask 
the cause of so much moral delinquency ? of so much 
dishonesty ? so much forgery, and theft, and wrong ? 
Go, for an answer, to the sin-stained pleasures of the 
young. Do you ask the cause of extravagance, prodi- 
gality, and suffering ? Go to the lighted hall, the 
playhouse, and the gay saloon, and you have the reply. 

" Vice drains our cellar dry, 
And keeps our larder clean ; puts out our fires, 
And introduces hunger, frost, and woe, 
Where peace and hospitality might reign." 

4. They are unnatural. Man does not need them. 
They are perversions of our nature, and produce 
misery only. They do not bring relaxation and re- 
lief, but sorrow and distress. They are wholly un- 
necessary. God has given us pure pleasures in 
abundance. He has surrounded us with an endless 
variety of charms, and made us to enjoy them. The 
angels might as well descend to earth in the vain hope 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 123 

of finding more bliss here, than beside the shining 
throne, as man leave the pure joys and pleasures 
which God has given, to grasp those which Satan has 
devised for his detraction. Says an eloquent writer, 
" Upon this broai earth, perfumed with flowers, scent- 
ed with odors, brilliant in colors, vocal with echo- 
ing and re-echoing melody, I take my stand against 
all demoralizing pleasure. Is it not enough that our 
Father's house is so full of dear delights, that we must 
wander prodigal to the swineherd for husks, and to 
the slough for drink ? When the trees of God's heri- 
tage bend over our heads, and solicit our hand to 
pluck the golden fruitage, must we still go in search 
of the apples of Sodom — outside fair, and inside 
ashes ? Men will crowd the circus to hear clowns, 
and' see rare feats of horsemanship ; but a bird may 
poise beneath the very sun, or flying downward swoop 
from the high heavens ; then flit with graceful ease, 
hither and thither, pouring liquid song as if it were a 
perennial fountain of sound, no man cares for that. 
Upon the stage of life, the vastest tragedies are per- 
forming hi every act; nations pitching headlong to 
their final catastrophe ; others, raising their youthful 
forms to begin the drama of their existence. The 
world of society is as full of exciting interest, as m\r 
ture is full of beauty. The great dramatic throng of 
life is hustling along, the wise, the fool, the clown, 
the miser, the bereaved, the broken-hearted, Life 



124 THE £OUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

mingles before us smiles and tears, sighs' and laugh- 
ter, joy and gloom, as the spring mingles the winter 
storm and summer sunshine. To this vast theatre 
which God hath builded, where stranger plays are 
seen than ever authors writ, man seldom cares to 
come. When God dramatizes, when nations act, 
or all human kind conspire to educe the vast catas- 
trophe, men sleep and snore ; and let the busy scene 
go on, unlooked, unthought upon, and turn from all 
its varied magnificence to hunt out some candle- 
lighted hole, and gaze at drunken ranters, or cry at 
the piteous virtue of harlots in distress." 

5. Tliey are heart-corrupting , and soul-destroying. 
Were the effects of vicious amusements confined to 
this life, were the waste of time, the abuse of health, 
the extravagance and prodigality, all the evil which 
could flow from them, they might be sought with less 
guilt than at present. But they have immediate in- 
fluence upon the soul of man, and are doubtless the 
cause of the destruction of thousands. The day of 
judgment will alone reveal the influence of depraved 
pleasures in peopling that world where no light is, 
and where the wail of sorrow is ever heard. They 
contribute essentially to deaden the heart to holy in- 
fluences, to sear the conscience, and prepare the vic- 
tim to go out into blackness and darkness. Those 
who are accustomed to find pleasure in such scenes, 
are well aware, that they are inconsistent with reli- 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 125 

gion, and the contemplation of heavenly objects ; that 
they turn the mind away from God, and blind the 
eyes to all the dangers of the future. 

It is a sad sight, to see men so nobly made, with 
such a lofty destiny before them, with so many high 
hopes of future good, pursuing the miserable phantoms 
of this life, and choosing pleasure and sinful mirth, 
while heaven and immortality should be the objects 
of their choice. And I presume they will continue 
in this course of madness until death calls them away 
to the retributions of eternity. As it was in the days 
of Noah, so shall it be in the coming of the Son 
of man. Men will eat and drink, w T ork and play, 
be sorrowful and merry until the end come, and the 
wicked shall be destroyed. And I fear that some 
will be so attached to their pleasures that they will 
continue to sport with judgment, until the power of 
vengeance shall burst upon them. 

I know not as I can better close this discourse, 
than by relating an incident which is said to have oc- 
curred while the French army occupied the city of 
Moscow. Of its truth or falsity, I have no means of 
knowing. A party of officers and soldiers determined 
to have a military levee, and for this purpose chose 
the deserted palace of a Russian nobleman, in the 
vault of which a large quantity of powder had been 
deposited. That night the city was set on fire. As 
the sun w r ent down, they began to assemble* The 



126 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

females who followed the fortunes of the French 
forces, were decorated for the occasion. The gayest 
and noblest of the army were there, and merriment 
reigned over the crowd. During the dance the fire 
rapidly approached them ; they saw it coming, but 
felt no fear. At length the building next to the one 
which they occupied was on fire. Coming to the win- 
dows, they gazed upon the billows of fire which swept 
upon their fortress, and then returned to their amuse- 
ment. Again and again they left their pleasure, to 
watch the progress of the flames. At length the 
dance ceased, and the necessity of leaving the scene 
of merriment became apparent to all. They were en- 
veloped in a flood of fire, and gazed on with deep and 
awful solemnity. At length the fire communicating to 
their own building, caused them to prepare for flight, 
when a brave young officer, named Carnot, waved his 
jeweled glove above his head, and exclaimed, " One 
dance more, and defiance to the flame." All caught 
the enthusiasm of the moment, and, " One dance 
more, and defiance to the flame,'*' burst from the lips 
of all. The dance commenced, louder and louder 
grew the sound of music, and faster and faster fell 
the pattering footsteps of dancing men and women, 
when suddenly they heard a cry, " The fire has 
reached the magazine, fly! fly! for life!" One 
moment they stood, transfixed with horror ; they did 
not know the magazine was there, and ere they re 



DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 127 

covered from their stupor, the vault exploded , the 
building was shattered to pieces, and the dancers 
were hurled into a fearful eternity. 

Thus will it be in the final day. Men will be as 
careless as were those ill-fated revellers. Methinks 
the hour has come, and I stand upon an eminence 
from which I behold the vices and amusements of 
earth. I warn them, and tell them, that in such an 
hour as they think not, the son of man cometh. With 
jeering laugh, they ask, " Where is the promise of 
his coming ?" I bid them prepare to meet their God. 
They reply, ~" Pleasure is our God." I tell them of 
an awful judgment ; a miserable eternity ; and crying 
"priestcraft," they again engage in the noisy revel. 
Soon an awful rumbling is heard hi the heavens. A 
thousand voices tell them, that the angels are rolling 
out the judgment throne. They reply, " One dance 
more, and defiance to that throne." Suddenly the 
stars go out, the moon turns to blood, all nature is 
convulsed, and universal panic seizes the hearts of all 
men, when, horror struck, I see seme Carnot, turn 
his bloodshot eyes upon the burning world, and wav- 
ing his jeweled hand above his head, exclaim, " One 
dance more, and defiance to that flame," and ere 
that dance is done, the bolt is sped, the magazine 
of the universe explodes, and the time to dance is 
gone q:ne forever, forever. 



LECTUEE VI. 



WEALTH AND FAME. 



For riches are not forever ; and doth the crown endure to every gener- 
ation I Proverbs, xxvii. 24. 



y^EW men have had a clearer view of the 
|ir r entire emptiness of all worldly good, than 
f^j the writer of the book of Proverbs. He 
^> — J had measured the world in which he lived, 
and gauged its depths of happiness. He had 
ascended the highest pinnacle of human observa- 
tion, and gazed upon all the pursuits and pleas- 
ures of mankind. He had wandered up ai J 
down the world, and found in the cottage and the 
palace, the same unsatisfying and unsubstantial 
bliss. He had secured riches, honor, friends, and 
pleasure, but amid them all, he could not forget 
that he was mortal. Like a wise man, he endeav- 
ored to profit by what he learned, and instead 
of placing his whole dependence on fleeting and 
transitory possessions, sought by divine aid, the 
riches of incorruptible and imperishable worth. 

(128) 



WEALTH AND FAME. 129 

The results of his meditations, he has given us in 
the book which has been so appropriately designated, 
" The Book of Proverbs." In that book is gathered 
the full experience of a man who had an intimate ac- 
quaintance with human life, and who from the cradle 
to the grave had studied it ; an experience given in a 
form, at once calculated to attract the attention and 
benefit the reader ; a book of sentences and senti- 
ments, the whole of which constitutes one of the most 
beautiful systems of moral ethics, which was ever 
placed in the hands of a young man. The extract 
from that book which I have read as my text, will be 
the basis of a lecture this evening upon wealth and 
fame. 

I would not, of course, be understood to condemn 
the acquisition of wealth, or the pursuit of fame, alto- 
gether. I would not wish to check one laudable de- 
sire for the things of life, or quench a single aspiration 
of the mind for the applause of others. There is 
nothing wrong in the accumulation of property ; there 
is nothing wrong in a desire to have our deeds ap- 
proved by our fellow-men. Some of the best and 
purest men of the world have been men of vast for- 
tunes and unbounded fame, and that man who de- 
spises either of them, exhibits his folly. The only 
caution which the Bible gives, is, that we use them 
well, and not be inordinately attached to them. It 
sanctions the pursuit of riches to a proper degree, 
9 



130 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

and informs us that the love of money, and not 
money itself, is the root of all evil. Placed as we 
are in this world, it is our duty to secure property, if 
we can by honest and laudable means. God has 
made our comfort and convenience in this life some- 
what dependent on riches. He has surrounded us 
with wants and wishes which money alone can gratify, 
and in a hundred ways pointed out to us the propriety 
of laboring for the useful and necessary means of sub- 
sistence. A proper and praiseworthy desire to have 
a competency is not a sin. It has nothing in it of a 
miserly character, and has been encouraged and al- 
lowed by God in all ages of the world. Those young 
men, therefore, who are honestly laboring to amass 
wealth, in hope that it will make them more use- 
ful in life, and help them better to benefit man, and 
glorify God, are doing right, and deserve the encour- 
agement of the wise and good. They only are to be 
condemned, who are striving to grow rich by dishonest 
means, or, who after having secured property, use it 
for their own selfish gratification. I may be mistaken, 
but I think God looks from heaven with pleasure upon 
the busy crowds of human life, who are diligent in 
business, and amassing property that they may spend 
it in his service. I am well aware that gold has a 
tendency to corrupt the heart, and as a general thing, 
a man's soul becomes frozen and deathlike to just the 
extent of his riches ; but this arises wholly from the 



WEALTH AND FAME. 131 

fact that money is perverted from its legitimate use, 
that it is made the occasion of sin, that it is loved 
more than the Being who gave it. You will there 
fore remember, as I pass through this lecture, that I 
condemn only an inordinate desire for*riches. 

The same remarks may be made of fame. Fame 
is denned to be a favorable report of one's character ; 
praise given to a man because of his real or supposed 
good deeds. Certainly nothing can be wrong in a 
desire for this. God has created us with a disposi- 
tion to please our fellow men, and receive their appro- 
val. And this we find to be one of the ties which 
bind society together. But for this, man would act 
without regard to the feelings of his neighbors, and 
human fife would become one wild scene of contention 
and confusion. The desire to be respected by our 
fellow men, is a proper desire. It restrains from vice 
hundreds, who but for this, would rush into sin. It 
leads to self-respect, and is one of the pillars of hu- 
man character. Strike it down, and you remove one 
of the strong inducements to virtue, and leave the 
young without a motive which now operates in behalf 
of morality with tremendous force. Instead there- 
fore of checking the desire to please others, it should 
be encouraged. The young should be taught that 
self-respect, and the respect of community, are both 
essential to success in life, and early led by honesty, 
rectitude, and piety, to gain the confidence and e& 



132 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

teem of society. But fame is not always pursued for 
this purpose alone. Like money, it has its worship- 
pers who are determined to secure it, at the hazard 
of all the other blessings of this life, and the richer 
blessings of the life to come. With many, fame has 
changed into a frightful ambition, absorbing all the 
more lovely and amiable traits of character, and 
changing man into a blinded, deluded admirer of a 
fantom which will disappear in an hour. 

Thus money and fame, instead of being the bless- 
ings which God designed, become sources of iniquity, 
upon which He must look with peculiar disapproba- 
tion and displeasure. You will allow me therefore to 
offer a few remarks at this time, upon the folly of an 
inordinate attachment to wealth and fame. 

1. They are fluctuating and uncertain. All who 
have observed the progress of the world's great 
changes, must have felt the fearful uncertainty of 
earthly honors and emoluments. Though all past 
history has had its changes, and the record of every 
nation is full of tokens of falling greatness, yet to 
our times has been left the task of proving most con- 
clusively to the charmed and cheated world, that all 
earthly honor, and ambition, and riches, are as fluc- 
tuating and unstable as the tossed waves of the foam- 
ing sea. The last half century has been full of 
changes, in both private and public life. Single for- 
tunes, and the fortunes of nations, have been gained 



WEALTH AND FAME. 133 

and lost Private individuals and public men have 
risen to stations of honor and opulence, and fallen as 
suddenly. The world has been dazzled by meteors, 
which have flashed athwart the sky, and disappeared, 
leaving the world in darkness. Perhaps there never 
has been a time of such political and commercial em- 
barrassment and change. The whole world seems to 
be resting on the hollow bosom of a volcano. Sta- 
bility is found nowhere. The church and the state 
are heaving with internal disorders. Life is con- 
vulsed, and the shaking pillars of human society at- 
test the precarious character of all earthly ambition. 
Similar changes to those which are occurring in great 
states and nations, are found in every department of 
life, though on a smaller scale. From the tradesman 
who acts upon his narrow capital of a few hundred 
dollars, up through all the ranks of wealth to the man 
who sports and jests with thousands, and is in earnest 
only when he deals with millions, there is commotion. 
From the little province, which has scarcely found a 
place upon the map, and whose insignificance has de- 
nied it a record on the pages of history, up to the 
great kingdoms whose thrones turn upon the world's 
centre, and whose political economy is interwoven 
with the very texture of civilized life, there have been 
agitating and distressing changes. 

Men who a few years ago, were rich and increased 
in goods, having neeji of nothing, are now bankrupt ; 



134 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

their fortunes are scattered to the winds of heaven, 
their rich estates are occupied by others, their proud 
mansions are inhabited by those who awhile since 
lived in poverty, and all the tokens of their former 
wealth are gone. Men who not long ago, heard 
their names chanted by an admiring crowd of human 
beings, now hear them pronounced with scorn and de- 
rision. Sovereigns who imagined themselves seated 
securely on their thrones, have been driven into vaga- 
bondage, and now are eating the bread of disgrace 
and poverty. Kings have become slaves, and slaves 
are changed to kings. The wheel of fortune is turn- 
ing every hour, and those who are in affluence to-day, 
know not where they will be to-morrow. To illustrate 
the point more clearly, I will refer to a few changes 
which have occurred in France, a nation which at the 
present time is drawing considerable attention, a nar 
tion which has seen as many fearful revolutions as 
perhaps any other on the globe, and been as often 
deluged in blood and crime. 

A little more than fifty years ago, Louis XVI. 
was seated firmly upon the throne of that ill-fated 
kingdom. His reign was a weak, but splendid one. 
He had assumed the reins of government under 
favorable auspices, and for awhile was the idol of 
the people. His court was the centre of beauty, 
fashion, and splendor, and he rode upon the full tide 
of popular applause. If we could have looked upon 



WEALTH AND FAME. 135 

the monarch then, we should have regarded his case 
as one of the best specimens of permanent power. 
He seemed so strongly entrenched in the affections 
of the people, so honored by the esteem of other na- 
tions, so'surrounded by servile armies, so favored by 
the god of wealth, that none would have predicted his 
sad end. But the wave of popularity which attended 
him in the early part of his administration, and bore 
him on to fortune, was deceitful. The voice which 
shouted his name with rapture, was calling for his 
blood. Honored as he was, wealthy as he had been, 
he found but a single step from the monarch's throne 
to the block of the malefactor ; but one step from the 
emoluments of office, and the kingly prerogatives, to 
the death of ignominy. The heaving storm of revo- 
lution fell not oii him alone. His beautiful, accom- 
plished, and high-born queen, Marie-Antoinette, fol- 
lowed him to the scaffold. Bound on a cart, sitting 
on the coffin which she was soon to fill with her cold 
corpse, she rode along, the widow of a beheaded king, 
to her own execution. Crowds of men and women, 
who had followed her with admiration not long before, 
lined the streets through which she passed, but offered 
no assistance, and uttered no sympathy ; and when 
her trunkless head was elevated on a pike before 
their eyes, they shouted, " The tyrants have fallen." 
Scarcely had this wild scene passed away, ere Na 
poleon Bonaparte emerged from his obscurity, and by 



136 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

extraordinary energy lifted himself into the affections 
of the people, and the offices of trust. From one 
step to another, he ascended, until the imperial crown 
was placed by his own hands upon his head. Each 
succeeding month clustered new glory around his ad- 
ministration, and he soon became the master of Eu- 
rope, the wonder of the world. He made kings, and 
deposed them. He sported with thrones and states, 
as a child with the leaves of a broken flower. He 
had wealth, fame, glory, success, all of them. But 
alas ! earthly greatness is precarious. In one day, 
the glory of his arms became dim, the lustre of his 
crown faded, the sceptre fell from his palsied hand, 
and he fled, an exile and a wanderer to a distant 
home. How strikingly does his short, eventful life, 
exhibit the vanity of human ambition. A monarch 
yesterday ; to-day a slave. Yesterday, flushed with 
conquest, a continent fleeing before him ; to-day pin- 
ing in solitude, and perhaps poisoned by the govern- 
ment into whose hand he had given himself for pro- 
tection. 

Then followed Louis Philippe, the golden monarch. 
He deemed wealth and fame substantial, when found- 
ed on standing armies, and on the ignorance of the 
people. Hence, he suppressed all revolutionary pub- 
lications, enlarged his standing army, procured a bul- 
letproof coach, doubled his guard, and made his 
pcwer appear invincible and his throne impregnable. 



WEALTH AND FAME. 137 

But in an hour the tide of change swept them 
all away. The throne was torn from its place, and 
burned in the streets of Paris, the sceptre was broken 
to pieces by an infuriated mob, the signs of royalty 
were scattered before the wild commotion, and the 
king and his family fled into exile, without money 
enough in his purse to purchase a change of garment. 

Other nations of the earth, though not so promi- 
nent as the one to which I have referred, are all 
undergoing, more or less, really the same process. 
Scarcely a throne in Europe is secure, and fame and 
wealth are found to be as uncertain as the whistling 
wind. Even ecclesiastical fame, and the revenue 
which is drawn from extensive church organizations 
are not sure. We see a potentate, who has claimed 
to be the "Vicegerent of God," driven from the epis- 
copal palace, and seeking a home in a dishonored 
and unknown spot. 

Nor in our own country, is wealth and fame more 
certain. Some who live and move among us, clad in 
rags and poverty, were born heirs of extensive pos- 
sessions, but those possessions have wasted away. 
As a general thing a fortune runs itself out, ere it 
reaches the fourth generation, and often a single life- 
time is sufficient to change the pecuniary circum- 
stances of a multitude of men. A single failure 
will sometimes involve a hundred firms in ruin, and 
lead down a hundred families to abject poverty. A 



138 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

single conflagration which sweeps along the crowded 
streets of a city, consuming property, will often de- 
stroy the hard earnings of many years, and leave 
toiling men to die in sorrow, destitute of enough to 
purchase a winding-sheet. Human life is one con- 
stant scene of migration from affluence to poverty, a 
shifting panorama of good and evil. 

Nor does fame in republics, have anything more 
of stability, than wealth. Bach year presents us with 
new candidates for popular applause, and consigns 
the favorites of previous years to oblivion. Our po- 
litical ingratitude is a marked feature of our national 
history. Men who have toiled long and well, are 
denounced for some difference in political opinion, 
and their places in the government and in halls of 
legislation, filled with those who have no claim to 
popular favor. And thus it will continue to be, while 
the human mind remains the same as at present, and 
he who is dependent upon the mad shout of the popu- 
lace, which is as unstable as water, will soon find that 
his station is one of precarious and doubtful character. 
In the times of Christ, our divine Saviour, he was 
made the object of ridicule at one time, and of praise 
at another time. His reputation was tossed upon the 
wave of inconstant human passion, and his name 
shouted at one period with rapture, and at another 
period with derision. He lived, the sport of chang- 
ing man ; he died, the victim of popular indignation. 



WEALTH AND FAME. 139 

He heard the shout, " Hosanna, hosanna, to the Son 
of David ;" and the cry, " Crucify him, crucify him," 
Bounded in his ears, as it was echoed out by the same 
multitude. 

Such being the precarious character of wealth and 
fame, I would suggest that, they be not made the 
chief objects of pursuit. There is a purer wealth, 
there is a more exalted honor, which cometh down 
from heaven. While I would urge a proper interest 
in the acquisition of property and a good character, I 
would suggest that wealth and honor are needed in 
the world to come, and if these be ours, the failure to 
secure temporal wealth and applause will be of but 
little consequence. 

2. They fail to secure permanent happiness. Long 
ago it was proved that things external cannot se- 
cure permanent peace and pleasure. 

" The conscious mind is its own awful world," 

and it this is in commotion, no external circumstances 
can give it rest. Hence we have found some of our 
most wealthy men to be the most miserable of all. 
Surrounded by all the charms of luxury and splendor, 
having every wish gratified, and every desire fulfilled, 
they walk on earth the moving monuments of woe. 
The notion is a false one, that happiness depends upon 
wealth. It is not true, that our most wealthy men 
are the most happy. Facts are against it. Riches 



140 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

must be attended with care and sorrow, and gene- 
rally, the more wealth a man has, the fewer will be 
his hours of pleasure. I doubt whether the man who 
has thousands at command, who is enabled to look 
abroad upon extensive fields, and watch for returning 
vessels, is as happy as the day laborer, who owns 
not the roof which covers him, and w x ho knows not 
how long he shall have food for his children. The 
one, has riches and crushing cares ; the other, has 
penury and peace. The one trusts in his laden ship, 
in the income of his stocks, in the safety of his invest 
ments ; the other, trusts the God who heareth the 
young ravens when they cry, and looks for food and 
raiment to the 

" Glorious Giver, who doeth all things well." 

Nor will fame secure peace of mind, and give rest to 
the troubled conscience. Men have tried it, and 
failed. They have secured the breath of popular ap- 
plause, they have heard their names mingled with 
sweet strains of music, but found the heart within, 
restless and unsatisfied. The highest pinnacle of 
earthly ambition has been attained, but the " aching 
void" has not been filled, nor can it be. As well, 
might we attempt to satisfy the desire for food with 
husks and thorns, as to satisfy the longings of immor- 
tality with the transient and unmeaning praises of an 
excited crowd. It is said of Alexander, that when 



WEALTH AND FAME. 141 

he had secured the world's homage, and covered the 
earth with the fame of his conquests, he sat down and 
wept, because there were no more kingdoms and 
states to conquer. He had wealth, fame, glory ; but 
they did not give him happiness. Had he found 
another world and made himself master of it, he 
would have been no nearer the point at which he 
aimed- Other men whose fame has been world-wide, 
have given unequivocal evidence, that they had no 
enjoyment in the things around them, and fame and 
riches instead of being sources of pleasure, have 
proved to be sources of sorrow and distress. We are 
sadly deceived in respect to these things. There is a 
glitter, a splendor, around the rich man's gold ; there 
is a charm to applause and honor, which cheats the 
blinded throng. The headache and the heartache, 
cometh alike to rich and poor, noble and ignoble. 
All the gold which can be found in yonder newly dis- 
covered mines, cannot drive away the sorrow which 
unbidden and uncalled, will rush into the temple of 
the soul. The loudest blast of Fame's burnished 
trumpet, cannot make melody to a heart oppressed 
with sorrow, and bowed with guilt. Go ask the 
Astors, Brookses, Lawrences, and others, who have 
accumulated large fortunes, and they will tell you, 
that the mere possession of wealth, is not the promi- 
nent source of pleasure, that they were as happy when 
they were poor men, as when their fortunes had in- 



142 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 

creased to millions. Go ask + Jie proudest military 
chieftain that ever drew a sword, or put a trumpet 
to his lips ; go ask the man most famed for wisdom, 
skill, and eloquence, and they will both tell you, that 
fame is an empty blast, and has no power to satisfy 
the cravings of a deathless soul. Gather in one spa- 
cious apartment all the wealthy ones, and the honor- 
ed of the earth, and you will find no class of men in 
the wide world who bear so many marks of care, and 
wear so many traces of sorrow, as do these favored 
eons of Adam. 

" It is the mind that makes the body rich ; 
And as the sun breaks through the darkest elouds, 
So honor peereth in the meanest habit ; 
What ! is the jay" more precious than the lark, 
Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 
And is the adder better than the eel, 
Because his painted skin contents the eye." 

Certainly not ! Nor is the man of wealth and fame, 
more truly great, and wise, and happy, because he is 
more favored than his fellows. Wealth and fame, are 
often like the feathers of the jay, and the skin of the 
adder, given irrespective of a man's virtues or vices. 
The pleasant plumage, does not make the jay sing 
more sweetly ; the painted skin, does not detract from 
the poisonous nature of the adder. The adder is the 
adder still, with all his beauty ; and the rich man 
with all his wealth and honor, remains a poor sorrow- 



WEALTH. AND FAME. 143 

stricken child of earth. Tell me, ye youthful aspi- 
rants for gold and silver, ye who are disposed to leave 
home and friends, and all the endearments of civilized 
life, tell me, what a fortune is worth, which cannot 
purchase exemption from a single pain of body, a sin- 
gle sorrow of the heart ? Tell me, what the plaudits 
of the world are worth which cannot ease the guilty 
conscience, or wipe away one stain of guilt ? 

3. Unreasonably loved, they lead to crime. I have 
shown that wealth may be acquired, and fame pur- 
sued, to a certain extent. Well would it be for man, 
if he would stop where God has set the bounds, but 
in many cases he will not. The mind which is bent 
on fame, will pursue it at the hazard of all that is 
truly good. This we have seen in all past history. 
Principle has been sacrificed, true nobility of soul 
trodden under foot, the rights of man disregarded, 
the interests of the undying soul placed in jeopardy, 
that some ambitious tyrant might have his name 
recorded 

" Among the few immortal ones, 
That were not born to die." 

Wealth has been sought at the same sacrifice, and 
many to gain it, have lost all that is really valuable. 
Well does the word of God declare, that " The love 
of money is the root of all evil." It makes the rob- 
ber, the gambler, the murderer. It leads to all kinds 



144 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

of crime and degradation. A "haste to be rich," 
has Med the world with dishonesty and fraud, and 
plunged many into eternity, covered with the foulest 
crimes. Hence, our desires on this point cannot be 
too carefully controlled. An inordinate desire to se- 
cure the applause of the world, will lead to an aban- 
donment of the great principles of right and integrity. 
Under the present constitution of things, a man can- 
not be universally popular, without lowering the stan 
dard of his character. A truly good man, the people 
are not yet prepared to love. Popular opinion is di- 
vided, and the "baser sort" will not honor a man 
who stands up against their crimes, in the dignity of 
a pure character. Hence, we find that all good men 
have their enemies, all virtuous men their opposers. 
Christ, our great example, was called " Beelzebub," 
and harsher terms have been applied to the members 
of his household. Consequently the great temptation 
to young men is, to relinquish their independence of 
character, bow to the discordant elements which are 
around them, and purchase at such a price, the favor 
of the w^orld. This is especially the case with politi- 
cal men. Communities change so frequently, that 
cur public men are kept turning continually, until we 
scarcely "know where to find a man, who has become 
deeply entangled in the intricacies of party politics. 

In like manner, an absorbing desire for gold, will 
lead to fatal results. He who is determined to be 



WEALTH AND FAME. 145 

rich at any sacrifice, who places wealth before him as 
the chief aim of his being, will soon cease to hesitate 
in regard to methods of securing it. If he cannot 
gain it by lawful industry, he will resort to fraud 
and deception, crime and woe. A large amount of 
the dishonesty of the present day, may be traced back 
to the love of money, and the unscrupulous means 
taken to secure it. Better be poor, than rich at the 
sacrifice of honesty. Better toil day and night, and 
eat the bread of poverty, than have a passion for gold 
which will corrupt the heart, canker the soul, and 
lead to the commission of foul and horrid crimes. 

" Oh cursed love of gold ; when for thy sake 
The fool throws up his interest in both worlds ; 
First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come/* 

4. TJiey are brief as human life. Were we on 
a journey through a strange country, and stopping 
here and there, only for a night, we should deem our 
accommodations of small importance ; we should not 
think of fitting up in a costly manner, a house in which 
we should remain but a few hours. Human life is a 
journey through a strange land. Our home is be- 
yond it, far away. Each object we behold is a 
monitor, pointing us downward to the grave in which 
our ashes will soon repose. Is it not vain, then, for 
us to give our whole attention to wealth and fame ? 
We cannot carry them with us into the grave. The 
10 



146 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

rich and poor are alike in the coffin, and all the fame 
of earth "will make no difference in the world to which 
we are hastening. I have read of a man who was 
rich on earth. He fared sumptuously every day. 
He w T as clothed with purple and fine linen. He rode 
in his chariot. He reveled in wealth and splendor. 
But death, the common enemy, visited his splendid 
abode, and hurried him away. He took no gold, no 
silver, with him. His chariot he left behind. His 
magnificence, pomp, and distinction, were all of the 
earth. In that other world, he was miserably poor. 
He had no home. On the waves of an angry sea his 
soul was tempest driven. He had no pillow but the 
wave of fire, and in vain he prayed for a cup. of water 
to cool his parched tongue. I have read of another 
man, who sat at that same rich man's gate, full of 
sores, and covered with wounds. He was poor, very 
poor. But in time, he died. Angels caught hl% 
spirit, and carried it up to a world of bliss. All 
was changed. In an hour, he had become wealthy, 
honored, and supremely blest. There is an anecdote 
circulating widely in the papers of the day, which 
although old, so strikingly illustrates the vanity and 
brevity of wealth and fame, that I will give ifc in the 
language of another : " In the middle of the eleventh 
century, there arose a Mohammedan prince in Egypt, 
by the name of Saladin. Ascending the throne of 



WEALTH AND FAME. 147 

the ancient Pharaohs, and guiding the Moslem armies, 
he rolled back the tide of European invasion, with 
which the Crusaders were inundating the holy land. 
His legislative genius constituted him the glory of his 
OTvn country, while his military exploits inspired Chris- 
tendom with the terror of his arms. The wealth of the 
Orient was in his lap, the fate of millions hung upon 
his lips, and one half of the world was at his disposal. 
"At last death, the common conqueror of all, came 
to smite the crown from the brow, and to dash the 
sceptre of this mighty monarch. As he lay upon his 
dying bed, looking back upon the visions of earthly 
glory, fast flitting &way, and looking forward into 
the impenetrable future, his soul was overwhelmed 
with those emotions which must under such circum- 
stances, agitate the bosom of every thinking being. 
For a long time, his unbroken silence, indicated the 
deep absorption of his thoughts, by the new subjects 
which now engrossed his spirit. At last, rousing 
himself from his reverie, with that firm voice which 
ever was accustomed to be obeyed, he said : ' Pre- 
pare, and bring me my winding sheet.' It was im- 
mediately done, as commanded, and the winding sheet 
was unfolded before him. The dying Sultan gazed 
upon it, long and silently, and then added : ' Bring 
here the banner around which my chosen guards have 
rallied in my victories.' The banner was presented 
at the royal couch, and all in silence awaited the 



148 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

further direction of the monarch. He paused a mo 
ment, and said, i Remove those silken folds, and at 
tach to the staff in their stead, the winding sheet.' 
It was done with the promptitude with w^hich the 
orders of the Sultan ever were obeyed. The dimmed 
eye of the dying monarch gazed upon the mournful 
emblem of mortality, as it hung from the staff around 
which he had rallied his legions on the field of blood, 
and added : ' Let the crier, accompanied by the mu- 
sicians, in a funeral dirge, pass through all the streets 
of Damascus, and at every corner, wave this banner 
and proclaim, ' This is all that remains to the mighty 
Saladin P 

" Then was there seen such a procession, as the 
imperial city had never witnessed before. Gathered 
in front of the portals of the palace were the musi- 
cians, the crier, with the strange banner, and the 
military escort, doing "homage to this memorial of 
death. Silence pervaded the thronged city as the 
waiimgs of the dirge floated mournfully through its 
long streets The crowds in silent awe gathered at 
the corners. Suddenly the dirge dies away, and all 
is still. The hearts of the people almost cease to 
beat, as the cold white sheet, soon to enshroud their 
monarch's limbs, is waved before them. Not a sound 
disturbs the silent city, as the clear voice of the crier 
proclaimed, ' This is all that remains to the mighty 
Saladin P Again the soul-moving strains of the re- 



WEALTH AND FAME. 149 

quiem vibrate through the air, and the procession 
moves along its melancholy way. As the stars came 
out at night, the spirit of the monarch took its flight, 
and the winding sheet enshrouded his limbs, still in 
death. Seven hundred years since that, have rolled 
away, and what now remains to the great monarch of 
the East ? Not even a handful of dust can tell us, 
where was his sepulchre." 

Look young friends, over the earth, and witness 
the pursuits of men. See how they chase the fan- 
torn shapes, which the god of this world sends, but to 
delude and destroy. They strive for fame. They 
dig for gold. And how long, think you, it will be, 
ere the winding sheet will be all that remains to each 
of them ? Let them fill their coffers, let them secure 
the applause of the good and bad of earth, let them 
be all they wish to be^and the common conqueror will 
spoil the vision in an hour. How wise was that mon- 
arch, who employed a page to remind him, at certain 
hours every day, that he was but a man. Wherever 
he was, under whatever circumstances, surrounded 
by his court, in his study, or in the feast-chamber 
amid the revelers, the page whispered in his master's 
ear, " Philip, thou art mortal" 

Need we monitors to remind us of this ? We have 
them. See you, that star, which twinkles and goes 
out ; the sun which shines awhile, and sinks behind 
the western hills ; the leaf which falls when autumn 



150 THE VOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

conies ; the shuttle, the cloud, the dew. Daily, 
hourly, they whisper in our ears, " Thou art mortal" 
And shall we heed the warning or not ? Shall we 
give to Vanity, or God, our noble powers, our price- 
less time ? Shall we strive to be honored with ap- 
plause which will die away ere we have crumbled to 
pieces in the grave ? Shall we be rich only in the 
treasures of one short fleeting life ? Shall we be 
among those who despise honest toil, and imitate the 
man, 

" Who lord of millions, trembles for his store, 
And fears to give a farthing to the poor ; 
Proclaims that penury will be his fate, 
And scowling, looks on charity with hate. 

No, we have a higher calling. The acquisition of 
property is not the great end of our being. We have 
been formed to do good to others, and act a holy 
part in the reformation of mankind. Around this 
employment hovers a true dignity, gathers a real 
splendor. Riches are not forever, and the crown will 
not endure to all generations, but the glory of doing 
a kind and lovely act, will follow us beyond the sepul- 
chre ; and when wealth has crumbled around our 
tomb, and fame has died away along the shores of 
time, the solemn employments of this life will rise up 
to gladden the heart, and throw a charm over the 
pages of imperishable memory. Dig not into the 
"bowels of the earth for that which is truly good, but 



WEALTH AND FAME. 151 

look upward to thy God ! With him all is pure, no- 
ble, wise, honorable, while all beneath the skies is 
vanity. The crown will fall from the monarch's head ; 
the sceptre will drop from his palsied hand ; the 
throne will crumble and decay ; wealth will take to 
itself wings and fly away ; all earth's greatness will 
perish, and the king, the pampered child of opulence, 
the learned philosopher, the senator, the priest, the 
gifted and the noble, must seek shelter in a narrow, 
dark, loathsome sepulchre. Death will stand unap- 
palled before the man at whose word earth turned 
pale ; he cares not for royal forms ; he will not be 
bribed by wealth. 

" Earth's highest station ends in ' here he lies,* 
And dust to dust concludes her noblest song." 



LECTUEE VII. 



GAMBLING. 



Is not thy wickedness great ? .and thine iniquities infinite ? For thou 
hast taken a pledge from thy brother for nought, and stripped the 
naked of their clothing. Job, xxii. 5, G. 



ffl 



^ HATEVER may have been the pecu- 
liar significance of these words, as used 
by Eliphaz the Temanite, we shall find 
them no less appropriate when applied 
to gambling and the gambler. This vice, which I 
propose to make the subject of discourse-this even- 
ing, does indeed rob the naked of their clothing, 
and secures the pledge without rendering an equiv- 
alent. More effectively than intemperance, or 
slavery, or war, it cheats its victims, and destroys 
their souls. It is a system of polite robbery, gen- 
teel murder, and fashionable suicide. Gambling 
consists in receiving property without rendering 
a just equivalent. Every game of hazard, from 
the turning coppers of the ragged urchin by the 

(152) 



GAMBLING. 153 

wayside, to the stake of the hoary man, who lays his 
whole fortune upon the table, and risks it all ; from 
the first cast of the novice, to the game by which the 
winner's coffers are filled in one hour, is gambling. 
From the insipid game of the jewelled female, to the 
carousal of the deformed, misshapen man ; from the 
parlor, with its glittering lamps, its sweet music, and 
its lovely occupants, to the game played in the haunt 
of woe, where an old wheelbarrow answers for the ta- 
ble, and rude blocks for chairs, it is all gambling. 
Lottery prizes, betting, and the like contrivances to 
secure property without earning it, are all included 
in the list of gambling operations, and alike deserve 
the disapprobation of community. 

I am well aware that many men who stand high in 
society, are engaged in this vice. I know that many 
buildings which rear their fronts proudly, in our 
large cities, have been erected or purchased with 
money thus obtained. I know that the stock of 
goods in many a store, is the product of this very 
crime. But does this fact change the nature of 
gambling ? Not at all. Respectable men cannot 
make it a respectable vocation ; gold has no trans- 
forming influence over it ; silver cannot cover its 
hideousness ; music cannot drown its wails of w r oe.- 
Death clatters with the dice, and damnation stares 
out from the winner's card. All the efforts which are 
made to make this vice attractive to the virtuous por- 



154 THE YOUNG MAN ? S FRIEND. 

tion of community, only renders it more disgusting 
and odious, gives it new features of hate and decep- 
tion, and secures for it the name of fraud and corrup 
tion. Indeed, the law recognizes gambling as a crime, 
and in many places all its resorts and haunts, are 
closed by the officer of justice. And so it should be. 
There is no propriety in penetrating the cave of the 
midnight robber, the hovel of the forger, the den of 
the assassin, and dragging them away to the halls of 
justice, while the gambling saloons of our large cities 
are left to do their work of destruction, beggary, and 
death. There is no propriety in condemning and im- 
prisoning the poor man, who in the urgency of the 
case, steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving wife 
and children, while gambling, which is a wholesale 
system of theft, is left to impoverish community and 
destroy the characters of our fellow-citizens. To in- 
duce you to loathe and abhor this vice, I will now of- 
fer upon it, a few remarks to which I request your 
attention. 

1. Gambling is a monstrous system of prodigality. 
Money has its uses. Properly employed it is like 
time and education, a blessing. Rightly used, it ena- 
bles us to do good and become extensively useful in 
the world around us. But if a man would waste a 
fortune, let him become a gambler. If he would in 
the shortest time, scatter the earnings of years, let 
him resort to the gay saloon, and engage in games of 



GAMBLING. 155 

chance, and drink in the dear delights of the gam- 
bler's purgatory. You have only to look around you, 
and on every hand will present themselves to your 
gaze, the wrecks of fortunes w 7 jch were once deemed 
inexhaustible. You have only to go out into society 
to find men who started life with thousands at com- 
mand, but who have now no home, no fortune, no 
happiness. The gambler inevitably becomes a ruined 
man. He may win for a time, he may fill his purse 
with his ill-gotten gains, but the unseen hand will 
sweep them away, and leave him penniless. I know 
that men begin to gamble with a very different 
opinion. They want wealth, and deem the game of 
chance the best method of securing it. They set sail 
upon the sea of guilt with the idea of becoming rich 
without labor or toil. But how sadly does experience 
controvert this sentiment. Gambling, instead of be- 
ing the royal road to fortune, proves to be the path 
to houseless, homeless poverty. Instead of being the 
flower-blooming way to affluence, it is found to be the 
thorn-planted road to crime and disgrace. I am 
aware that men are found here and there, who have 
riches obtained by this crime. Some live and die, all 
surrounded with the wealth thus gotten. But these 
are the exceptions to the general principle, and form 
no argument in favor of such crimes. God seems to 
have forgotten them. He allows them to go on in 
the work of accumulation, until they are as rich aa 



156 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

Dives, with hearts as hard and frozen as was his. 
Poverty, shame, wretchedness, are the almost univer- 
sal results of gambling, and hundreds and thousands 
who have practised it, have found too late, their fatal 
mistake. Hence when we see a young man begin- 
ning to gamble, we may set him down as two-thirds 
ruined. If he be a merchant or a tradesman, you 
may expect erelong to hear of his failure. If he be 
a mechanic, or a lawyer, or a physician, you may cal- 
culate to find him ere many years are gone, in a 
mad-house, or a prison. You may depend upon his 
ruin with almost mathematical certainty. Like a 
fearful vortex, which swallows up every vessel which 
comes within the influence of its fatal circles, so gam- 
bling will swallow up every fortune upon which it can 
fix its gorgon eye, or lay its withering hand. Be not 
deceived ! Think not that gold will fill thy purse ! 
The home of gambling is the home of prodigality and 
poverty, where men who have been accustomed to 
roll in splendor, learn to feed on husks, and bite the 
dust of despair. If, therefore, you would avoid 
failure in business, poverty in your family, disgrace 
in society, and misery in hell, avoid the table of the 
gambler as you would the den of villany. 

2. Gcambling excites , intoxicates, and maddens the 
brain. The young man who is about entering upon 
the practice of the vice which we are discussing, sup* 
poses that he has perfect control over himself, and 



GAMBLING. 157 

can leave the table at any time, stay from it if he 
wishes, and return to it when he chooses. But this 
is not the case. The gambler is not his own man. 
When once he has entered the fatal path, he is im- 
pelled by an irresistible impulse. There is no stop* 
ing-place. Borne onward almost unconsciously, he 
loses command of himself, and with rapid strides has- 
tens to his own ruin. Frequently, one night is suffi- 
cient to accomplish the work of destruction. Let us 
examine the process for a moment. A young man 
comes to our large cities from his distant home, with 
a few hundred dollars in his pocket. With the busy 
throng of living beings, he has no acquaintance. He 
spends his days in labor, and when night comes, sighs 
for some congenial spirits, with whom he may asso- 
ciate He wanders out to find them. The church 
is dark, and its doors are closed. The hall of science 
rears its front, but no hving orator attracts the pass- 
ing crowd. Everywhere, his ears are saluted with 
deep rumbling sounds, like distant thunder, and the 
lights streaming from the windows of the gay saloon, 
illuminate the night. He has read of gambling and 
crime. He has nowhere to go, and looks in to see 
if w T hat he has heard is true. Once within the en- 
chanted chamber, he is within the fatal circles of the 
tempter. In the foreground, he finds the card-players 
around their narrow table, and in the rear the bowl- 
ing arrangement in full tide of operation Beside the 



158 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

former, he sits down. With intense interest lie 
watches the play as it proceeds, and at length joins 
in it. Awhile the sharps allow him to win. This is 
a part of their infernal trade. He wins again and 
again. Now new visions flit before his mind. He 
has been accustomed to look upon wealth as the re- 
sult of years of toil ; now he can secure it, ere morn- 
ing comes. His soul is on fire. He is dizzy with ex- 
citement. Already he fancies himself the owner of 
millions. By and by he stakes the whole sum which 
he brought with him, to invest in business. The 
practised villains see that it is no use to dally longer 
with him. They commence the game, and ere an 
hour is done, the young fool rises from the table, as 
poor as he was born into the world. He rushes to 
his boarding-place, in a state of mind more easily 
imagined than described. The next day beholds him 
pale and haggard, yet fearfully excited. He must 
win back what he has lost. He borrows all he can, 
and loses it. Soon he begins to steal. He does not 
mean to be a thief, but he must win his money back. 
The road to detection and imprisonment is short. A 
single year is often found sufficient to corrupt the 
purest mind, and leave a complete wreck of human 
character. The fearful excitement ruins both the 
body anr 1 the mind, and leaves a man, the fairest por- 
trait of human misery. Think not, that you can pan* 
der with the vice and remain unharmed ! Think not. 



GAMBLING. 159 

that you can engage in it, and retire from its scenes, 
when you will ! A few games will excite passions 
which no argument can subdue, no logic convince. 
The strongest mind will be turned by it, and the 
purest character, it will eventually ruin. The con- 
firmed gambler presents us with a pitiable spectacle. 
His nerves all unstrung, in many cases his body 
crushed, and his look wild and fearful, and his mind 
like a disordered machine, racking and crushing itself 
to pieces, and spending its energies for its own de- 
struction. 

3. Gambling is the highway to idleness. Man was 
made for industry. ■ God has formed him for labor 
and toil. He has endowed him with powers of body 
and mind, which will fit him to accomplish much 
good in the few years of his earthly span. Moreover, 
God seems to have given us an aversion to idleness, 
and to the idler, and no person in the community, 
is so little respected as a lazy, indolent, young 
man. But gambling is the parent of idleness, and 
has been the means of converting many a well-dis- 
posed and industrious youth, into an idle, lazy vaga- 
bond. It first teaches the young man that labor is 
disreputable for men of wit and sense, that it will do 
well enough for slaves and ignorant persons, who 
have no skill and genius, that men of refined man- 
ners, and intelligent, polished habits, ought not to be 
required to dig, and tug, and strive. It next pro- 



160 THE YOUNG MAN'S FBIEND. 

sents, the folly of working hard all day, and perhaps 
all night, for what can be secured in a single game. 
In this manner it takes the attention from pursuita 
of business and industry, and congregates its subjects 
in saloons and cellars, where they can play at night, 
and lounge, and smoke, and curse, and sleep, during 
the day. It creates an uneasiness, a fickleness, a 
discontent with one's employment and pursuits, and 
breaks up all regular business habits. It is not com- 
mon for a professional gambler to be an industrious 
man. His trade is a kind of system of lazy vaga- 
bondage, and renders him physically, mentally, and 
morally unfit for any useful pursuit. Go into a gain- 
Ming room in the daytime, and you will find a score 
of dissipated fellows congregated there. At a time, 
when the trader is in his store, the laborer at his 
toil, the mechanic in his workshop, these knights of 
the bar are engaged in lounging on cushioned seats, 
reading low publications, uttering blasphemous jokes, 
and drinking the sparkling wine, like gentlemen. Oc- 
casionally they will come forth to the light of day, 
looking like demons reefing up from the bottomless 
pit, and staggering to their homes, to abuse a wife, or 
dash to the earth a child, who comes to twine its little 
arms around the father's form. For the purpose of 
gambling, they have money enough, but for the wants 
of the family, to clothe the wife or feed the child, 
they have none. They will work all night casting 



GAMBLING. 161 

the polished ball, but will shun the hammer as if it 
was a viper, the pen as if it was a fiery serpent. 
To just such an extent, as a man becomes a gambler, 
does he also become an idle, useless, lazy spendthrift. 
This is plain language, but as true as plain. All past 
experience and observation teach it, and you have 
only to follow out the gamblers in any community, to 
have it fully and painfully confirmed. 

4. Gambling is a system of falsehood. Truth is 
one of the loveliest of the virtues. The man of truth 
is an estimable character. Truthfulness consists, not 
simply, in always avoiding direct falsehood, but in an 
upright, consistent course of action. There is the he 
of the hand, as well as the lie of the lip. Sometimea 
a look conveys a lie ; a shrug of the shoulders, or a 
shake of the fingei consitute, not unfrequently, the 
greatest falsehoods. A man of truth is one, who is 
open in all his dealings ; there will be no trickery, no- 
double-dealing, no insinuations. His lips and his con- 
duct will agree with each other. He will not be plea- 
sant and fair m your presence, and plunge a dagger 
to your heart when your face is averted. He will not 
utter smooth compliments when you are listening, and 
when you are gone, sting your reputation with the 
poison of asps. Unused to deception, he will not sus- 
pect it in others, but will act towards his fellow-men on 
principles of open, candid honesty. But gambling is 
entirely opposed to truth. In itself, it is a lie, its 
11 



162 THE YOUNG 3#YN'S FRIEND. 

promises are hollow and deceptive, its pleaeures false 
and fleeting. It is carried on by falsehood. From 
the very nature of the case, the gambler cannot be a 
man of truth. When he sits down to play, he sits 
down to lie ; the play is a falsehood, and the gambler 
has forfeited his character for truth, to just the extent 
that he has become involved in the web-work of this 
vice. The skill exercised by the gambler is not like 
the skill of the lawyer, in an eloquent argument ; not 
like the skill of the mechanic, who performs a difficult 
piece of work ; not like the skill of the trader, who 
displays his goods to the best advantage. The genius 
of the gambler, is a genius for deception ; his skill, is 
a skill to cheat. The very tendency of the crime is 
to unbend the character from its integrity, and lead 
up the young to crime of open and damning character. 
A gentleman of this congregation remarked to me 
awhile since, " that upon inquiry at one of our houses 
of reformation, it was found that nine-tenths of the 
boys who had been placed there, had been employed 
previous to their confinement, in tending and doing 
little errands, and setting up the pins, for gentlemen^ 
in gambling saloons." These places not only corrupt 
the men who congregate in them, but they are train- 
ing up a class of boys to dishonest and fraudulent 
practices, and making them at the cutset of life, die- 
honest and corrupt. 

5, It is a system of wholesale theft, I know that 



GAMBLING. 168 

it is not what is usually denominated theft, but though 
called by another name,, it is no less really that 
crime. Without giving any equivalent, the property 
of another is appropriated to the use of the winner, 
and though the involuntary consent of the loser may 
be given, it is against his wishes and will. This 
the fortunate party knows, and when he sweeps the 
stakes into his own pockets, he has evidence that his 
opponent bitterly regrets it, and would keep his 
money, if he had the ability to win it back again. 
Notwithstanding this knowledge, the gambler will sit 
clown to the table, and coolly win the last dollar which 
the hapless victim may possess. It may be said, that 
the loser is aware of all this, and ought not to play if 
he does not wish to lose. True, but should the 
maniac barter his farm away for a copper cent, or, 
the idiot sell his valuable house for a handful of silver ; 
would the law, would public opinion justify the sharper 
who had made the bargain ? Would not every honest 
man look upon this transaction of the villain, as base 
fraud and gross dishonesty ? Would they not cry 
out against the wrong, and demand the punishment 
of the offender ? Now the young man who is just 
beginning to gamble, is insane. He may have his 
reason on other subjects, but on this he is deluded 
and intoxicated. The mad excitement has turned 
his brain ; and set his soul on fire. And thus he wiil 
continue, until like the professional gambler, his heart 



164 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

is burnt to ashes, or petrified to flint. He will con- 
tinue a monomaniac until conscience is gone. 

And by what name shall we call the man, whose 
soul is too dead to feel, and who deliberately sits 
down to secure by trickery and deception, the money 
of his excited, insane neighbor ? What name shall 
we give to the crime which he commits ? Before 
God, that man is a robber ; his crime is robbery. 
He appropriates to his own use, the property of 
another, and gives him no equivalent. He wrongs 
and abuses the poor dupe of his villany, and leaves 
him without remorse, to hunger or thirst, live or die. 

But the victim himself is not the only sufferer. 
Frequently young men who have amiable and virtuous 
families, practice this vice. They by some unfortu- 
nate combination of circumstances, become entangled 
in the net of the seducer, and leaving their families 
night after night, resort to the den of infamy, there 
to win or lose, amid the fumes of brandy, and the 
sound of cursing. Sometimes these young men lose 
their all ; they stake it in some unfortunate game, 
and see it swept into the pockets of a competitor. 
Enraged and drunken, each one returns to his family. 
The children see him come, and cry for bread. The 
wife points to her famishing little ones, and beseeches 
him to secure them food. With all a woman's ear- 
nestness, she pleads for money enough to buy a single 
garment to cover their freezing limbs. What dial] 



GAMBLING. 165 

tie tell her ? What reply shall be given those hungry 
children, as they cry for bread. Why, that a god- 
less wretch met him in the abodes of woe, and 
wronged him, cheated him, robbed him of all ; left 
him a beggar, and sent him home without a shilling 
in his pocket, to see his children starve — their mother 
die. The gambler who has won, has not stolen money 
from the pocket of his victim only, but bread, bread, 
bee AD, from the mouths of his wife and children. If 
a man comes into my house at night, and takes a sin- 
gle article, it may be a loaf of bread from the larder, 
or an armful of wood from the pile, the officers of jus- 
tice will pursue him, and if taken, he will suffer im- 
prisonment. But the gambler may steal the bread 
from a hundred families, and leave them in the shiv- 
ering time of winter without fire, without clothing, 
without food, and yet he is allowed to walk the streets, 
and move among men, as if he was as virtuous as an 
angel. You have only to converse with men who are 
familiar with this subject, to learn that it is a whole- 
sale system of theft and dishonesty. Reformed gam- 
blers will toll you tales of sorrow which will melt 
your heart. They will describe to you the strength, 
the fearful power of the strange, unnatural excite- 
ment, when once it has obtained dominion. They 
will declare tc you that family Bibles have been 
pawned to" secure money to play with ; that the 
clothing of children, has in some cases, been stolen 



166 THE YOUNG MAN*S FKIEND. 

from the wardrobe, and staked upon the issiu of the 
game ; that the ring which was placed upon the fin- 
ger of the wife, on the day of marriage, has been torn 
from her, and gambled away. A case occurred 
awhile since, within the limits of our own city, of this 
revolting character. Two little children had been 
clothed for the Sabbath School, by the hand of chari- 
ty. Some, who now hear me, assisted in the work. 
Kind hands fitted and made the garments, and in duo 
season the children appeared in the house of God. 
Three Sabbaths came and passed away. Ere the 
fourth had arrived, the father of those children took 
their warm, comfortable garments, and by relating a 
plausible story to one of his neighbors, succeeded in 
selling tham. The money was taken to the saloon of 
a man who lives in affluence, and there lost in gam- 
bling. A few days after, I met the little boy in the 
street, and when questioned, he related to me the 
fact which I have now given, and which was subse- 
quently confirmed by the mother, and even by the 
wretched father, with whom I had a conversation. 
Could I bring that little child, and induce him to tell 
you his tale of woe, as he told it to me, on the side- 
walk of the bleak street, you would need no further 
appeal upon this subject. 

• 6. Gambling nullifies the marriage relation, and 
introduces disorder and confusion into families. 
Home is the seat of domestic felicity. If home is 



GAMBLING. 167 

what it may be, and what it often is, the relatioLS of 
husband and wife, parent and child, are full of sacred 
pleasure. If home is not what it should be, these re- 
lations will fail to confer that pleasure which God 
has ordained, and which under proper circumstances 
will proceed from them. Now one view at gambling 
will suffice to convince you, that it strikes a blow at 
domestic bliss. It allures the husband from his 
home until a late hour at night, and returns him to it, 
excited with wine, and maddened at his losses. In 
the saloon, and in the street, he dare not vent his 
rage, and he goes into his family, to the spot, which 
of all others, should be most free from harsh words 
and angry looks, there to act out what during the 
evening he has not ventured to develop. On his poor 
wife and child, the storm of his vengeance bursts with 
terrific fury, and threats and blows reply to the mild 
request for food and raiment. I scarcely know of a 
more fearful frame of mind, than that which the gam- 
bler has, as he returns to his family after a night of 
debauchery, his property gone, his head aching and 
throbbing, his heart bursting with its own anguish. 
His wife may receive him with kindness, his children, 
brighfreyed boys and girls may cluster around him as 
he enters, but he has no inclination to return their 
kindness, and he stalks through his dwelling, renting 
his indignation alike upon God and man, 

T. Gaming leads to intemperance. Crime never 



168 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIE1SD. 

goes singly and alone. Seldom do we find a man, 
who lives in the habitual practice of one vice, and of 
no other. A man who will swear profanely, will gen- 
erally cheat ; if he will cheat, he will steal, and com- 
mit forgery ; if he will do these deeds of darkness, ho 
will gamble, get drunk, and perhaps, if occasion re- 
quires will commit murder. The same disposition and 
state of heart which leads to one of these crimes will, 
if not vigorously controlled, lead to the whole. Our 
sins are like the links of one great chain, and are to 
a considerable extent inseparable. Between gam- 
bling and intemperance, there is a direct connection. 
A man must drink, and become half drunken, ere he 
can play with skill ; the wine-cup must sharpen his 
wits. Before he begins to drink, he is cautious, hesi- 
tates, and considers, ere he lays his money on the 
table. He plays with an unsteady hand, and thinks 
of home. The intoxicating cup must be used to drive 
away these feelings ; to check the rising emotions of 
affection for his family ; to drown the voice of reason, 
and make him desperate. Then when he is half 
drunken, when he has become half dead, he is fit to 
play ; then can he pledge without hesitating, the bit 
of crust which his child must eat or starve ; then can 
he stake the hat upon his head, the shoes upon hie 
feet, the family Bible, and the family itself. 

When the game is over, and the excitement lias 
passed away, he must drink again to invigoratr hip 



GAMBLING. 169 

3ystem, to restore his energies, to quiet his nerves, 
and make his heart strong for another revel. This 
matter seems to be perfectly understood by the 
keepers of gambling houses. Hence, they always 
have a bar, at or near their den of crime. Gambling 
cannot be supported without drink, and we conse- 
quently find the saloon and the rum-shop, side by 
side. When the poor victim sees his hard earnings 
swept into the pockets of the practised villain with 
whom he plays, when he remembers his poor aged 
parents w T hom he is bound by every holy tie to sup- 
port, conscience will begin to work, and if he has 
strength enough he will resolve to return to his home. 
At such a moment, the maddening bowl must be used. 
The beverage of hell must be placed to his lips, and 
in the excitement which it occasions, all holy thoughts, 
all sacred associations must be crowded out of sight, 
until his last dollar is staked, and the poor wretch is 
driven to madness, and perhaps to suicide. 

8. G-ambling deadens the heart and destroys all 
hind and tender feelings. Common, ordinary theft 
and dishonesty do not do this, to any such extent 
as gambling. A man may steal a purse from the 
pocket of a stranger, and yet love his family. He 
may cheat in business, defraud every customer, and 
return to his home with real affection. But a con- 
firmed gambler, really loves no one, in heaven or on 
earth. Father, mother, brother, sister, wife, child, 



170 THE YOUNG MAN'S FPJEXD. 

are alike odious, and uncared for. The tender ties 
which bind other families in one holy band, are 
severed, ai.d when gambling has become an absorb- 
ing passion, home has no attraction, and friends no 
influence. 

It may be supposed, that I am using language 
stronger than the case will bear ; that my views of 
gambling arise from an ignorance of the real feelings 
of those who are engaged in the practice of the vice. 
But if I am deceived, I am not alone in it. Some of 
our oldest, best, and most experienced men, have 
come to the same conclusion. The opinion of the vir- 
tuous community was expressed long ago, and gam- 
bling has been considered a crime, among Christians, 
ever since the days of our divine Saviour. In all 
ages it has had the same hardening, degrading ten* 
dency. In every clime it has been fraught with cor- 
ruption and sorrow, and from the time when the mur- 
derers of Christ sat down beneath the cross, to gam- 
ble for his garments, until now, it has had the same 
tendency to corrupt human nature, and chill the heart 
to all lovely and pure emotions. That it may be 
seen that I am not alone in this opinion, let me in- 
troduce the statements of men of more age, wisdom, 
experience, and goodness, than myself, confirming the 
same statement. One writer* says, "The finished 
gambler has no heart ; he would play at his brother's 

* Eev. Dr. Nott. 



GAMBLING. 171 

funeral ; he would gamble upon his mother's coffin.'* 
Another* declares that, " Gambling palsies the heart, 
and so effectually silences the voice of conscience, 
that a man can commit any crime and feel no re- 
morse." Says another,! " Not long since, a young 
man acknowledged to me, in the greatest anguish of 
mind, that drinking and gambling, into both of which 
he fell in college, had almost accomplished his tem- 
poral and eternal ruin. There are, in every place of 
considerable size, fiends in human form, who are ever 
on the alert to entice young men into these practices, 
that they may increase their miserable gain by the 
destruction of soul and body." Another,:]: speaking 
of the gambler, says, " As he walks the streets, child- 
hood should flee in terror at his approach; uncon- 
taminated youth should hide from the very sight of 
him ; the maiden — her brow now blanched with fear, 
and now suffused with indignation — should spurn 
him from her path ; honest manhood should shrink 
from contact with the basest of the species ; and old 
age, leaning on its staff, too feeble to turn aside for 
refuge, should lift its eyes to heaven, to be delivered 
from a contamination more foul than the grave. The 
gambler should be made to feel that he is a marked 
man ; that in earth's homes, and in earth's hearts 
there is no place for him ; that on his habitation 

* Horace Walpole. t Rev. William W Patton 

t Rev. Jo/^ph W. Thompson, D.D. 



172 THE YCUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

is written "hell" and on his brow is written 
" fiend !" 

Another* says, " After hearing many of the scenes 
not unfamiliar to every gambler, I think Satan might 
be proud of their dealings, and look up to them with 
that deferential respect, with which one monster gazes 
upon a superior. There is not even the expectation of 
honesty. Some scullion-herald of iniquity decoys the 
unwary wretch into the secret room ; he is tempted to 
drink ; made confident by the specious simplicity of the 
game ; allowed to win ; and every lure, and bait, and 
blind is employed — then he is plucked to the skin 
by tricks which appear as fair as honesty itself. The 
robber avows Ms deed, does it openly ; the gambler 
sneaks to the same result under skulking pretences. 
There is a frank way, and a mean way of doing a 
wicked thing. The gambler takes the meanest way 
of doing the dirtiest deed. The victim's own partner 
is sucking his blood ; it is a league of sharpers to get 
his money at any rate ; and the wickedness is so un- 
blushing, that it gives, at last, an instance of what 
the deceitful human heart, knavish as it is, is ashamed 
to try to cover or conceal ; but confesses, with help- 
less honesty, that it is fraud, cheating, stealing, rob 
hery, and nothing else." The same writer elsewhere 
remarks, " When 2^ a U^ n 9 becomes desperate gam- 
bling, the heart is a hearth where all the fires of 

* Rev. H. W. Beecher. 



GAMBLING. 173 

gentle feelings have smouldered to ashes ; and a 
thorough-paced gamester could rattle dice in a char- 
nel-house, and wrangle for his stakes amid murder, 
and pocket gold dripping with the blood of his own 
kindred." 

I have but little more to say upon this topic. I 
hope I have convinced you of the folly of gambling, 
and led your minds to such an abhorrence of the 
crime, as will in after life, shield you, by God's 
blessing, from its terrific evils. I have used strong 
language, but not stronger than the subject demands ; 
and if there are any present, who have become in- 
volved deeply in this passion, they can attest the 
truth of my statements. Go from this house to-night, 
my young friends, with a determined hostility to all 
gambling operations. Remember, that they are de- 
vised to steal your money, blast your character, and 
ruin your soul. Remember, that those who habitually 
assemble in saloons appropriated to these purposes, 
are generally knaves. As says the poet : 

" Whene'er the gaming-board is set, 
Two classes of mankind are met ; 
But if we count the greedy race, 
The knaves fill up the greater space." 

Beware, lest you be deceived. Gambling is a system 
of falsehood. It will promise you a fortune in an 
hour — wealth in abundance — happiness, without 
mixture of sorrow. But none of them, does it confer* 



174 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

Wlien the inquisition house, at Madrid, was de- 
stroyed by order of Napoleon, the commanding officer 
found an image of a beautiful virgin. The workman- 
ship was most perfect, its proportions were correct, 
and beauty rested on each chiseled feature. This 
image was an instrument of torture. The victim was 
commanded to go up and embrace the virgin, and as 
he placed his bosom against the cold bosom of the 
statue, and his lips against the cold lips of the mar- 
ble, a spring was touched, an internal machine was 
set in motion, and the arms of the virgin filled with 
sharp daggers, arose and encircled the poor sufferer, 
and cutting into his flesh, mangled him in a most hor- 
rid manner, and destroyed his life. Gambling is 
such an image. It looks well at a distance, but it is 
armed with knives which will cut, not only the body 
but the soul. Fly from the gambler's house, as from 
the door of death. Fly from the gambler himself. 
He will strive to ruin thee. Poison is in his heart, 
and falsehood on his tongue. He seeks thy ruin. 

" Beware of yonder dog ; 
Look, when he fawns,, he bites ; and when he bites, 
His venom teeth will rankle to the death ; 
Have not to do with him, beware of him, 
Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him 
And all their ministers attend him.'' 




LECTURE VIII. 

INTEMPERANCE. 

At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. Prov- 
erbs, xxiii. 32. 

'NTEMPERANCE, like other vices, is de- 
ceitful and seductive. It frequently pre- 
sents a beautiful exterior, while within it 
is all corruption, and as loathsome as a 
sepulchre, full of dead men's bones. Youth is 
charmed and cheated by it, and old age, it often 
covers w T ith shame and disgrace. 

You have seen a calm cloud appear in the 
heavens in a clear clay in summer. At a distance 
it looked beautiful. Its shining edges glittered 
with delusive splendor, and it moved up the sky 
as majestically as the chariot of Jehovah. As 
it approached, the beauty disappeared ; on man 
below, it cast dark, threatening glances; the 
golden fringes vomited forth forked lightning ; 
and what afar, seemed mellow music, was soon 
found to be harsh and terrific thunder. Soon 
the tempest was abroad on earth. The beasts 

(175) 



176 THE YOUNG MAN ? S FRIEND. 

of the field fled for shelter to the shadow of the high 
rock; the yellow harvest of the husbandman was 
swept away, and man himself fled, a fugitive before 
the storm. 

Intemperance is like that cloud ! It promises shel 
ter and shade to the thirsty spirit, but soon burs is 
upon human life with all the fury of the tempest. It 
sends its blast and sweeps its tide, into the domestic 
retreat, across tribunals of justice, and up to the very 
altars of the church of God. 

You have seen a serpent winding himself noiselessly 
through a bed of flowers, and anon lifting his crested 
head above the foliage, and sporting himself with many 
a gambol. You have admired his beauty, agility, and 
strength, and watched his movements with intense de- 
light. Even the wild flowers which bloomed in his 
path, seemed to bend forward to kiss his beautiful form, 
and he in return moved aside, lest he should crush 
the fragile things, and scatter their tiny leaves. As 
you gazed, a mother and her child came on, and 
stooped to pluck those flowers. Then w r as the fero- 
cious nature of the monster developed. Around those 
shrinking forms he coiled himself, and with a hissing 
sound struck them with his fangs. Crushed and 
wounded, the child and mother were left to die, while 
the splendid monster moved away, and was soon lost 
from view in the dense forest. 

Intemperance is vich a serpent ! To youth it pre- 



INTEMPERANCE. 177 

scnts a beautiful exterior. The wine sparkles in the 
cup, and the gay festival attracts the unthinking 
throng. "At last it biteth like a serpent, and 
3 tinge th like an adder." Within its coil the victim 
groans and writhes in agony, until the poison, like 
boiling blood, flows through all his veins, reaching his 
brain and setting his soul on fire. 

You have seen the ocean calm and tranquil. As 
far as the eye could reach not a ruffle disturbed the 
surface of the waters. Like a sea of glass, it reflect- 
ed the form of every bird which took passage over it, 
and gave back from its clear bosom, the polished 
beauty of the heavens above. Invited by the sereni- 
ty of ocean and sky, the mariner launched his vessel, 
and spread his canvas to catch the gentle breeze. 
Soon a change came on. The wind blew like the 
hurricane. The waves tumbled and foamed upon 
each other. The ship plunged, and quivered, and 
strained in the trough of the sea. Sunken rocks now 
lifted their huge forms and sharp peaks high above 
the water, and anon were buried deep, by the moun- 
tain billow. Morning came ; and a vessel, without 
mast, or rudder, or sail, or chart, or compass, or crew, 
floated upon the bosom of the surge. ■ 

Intemperance is like that ocean ! To the youthful 
voyager it seems as calm and placid, as a sea of glass. 

But as he ventures out ; as the green hills of so- 
briety disappear, the waves of destruction begin to 
12 



178 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

dash around him ; the whistling blasts of poverty 
make frightful music ; the moaning of the pitiless 
storm disturbs his dream of pleasure, and ere long 
he is tossing, an unmanageable wreck, upon the sea 
of temporal and eternal ruin. To point out the dan- 
gers of the sea of intemperance, and utter a solemn 
warning to the young, will be the object of the 
present discourse, and while I do this, I request your 
serious and candid attention. 

I need not stop to prove that our young men need 
caution upon this point. Although the temperance 
reformation has laid its heavy blows upon the shiver- 
ing sides of the dominion of king Alcohol, his throne 
is not yet overturned. His dark, infernal empire still 
stands. The frowning fortress from which he hurls 
firebrands, arrows, and death, still lifts its front in the 
midst of the Christian community, and on every side, 
are monuments of his dreadful conquests. True it is, 
that intemperance has been driven from the marriage 
festival, and the chamber of mourning ; from the pul- 
pit of the minister, and the bench of the judge ; but 
unabashed, it has sought out other homes, and laid its 
snare for new victims. What then, we ask, are the 
solemn warnings which intemperance gives to young 
men ? 

1. The drunkard shall come to poverty. Poverty 
in itself, is not a crime. No disgrace belongs to the 
man, who by reverses in business, is led down from 



INTEMPERANCE. 170 

affluence to destitution. The poorest man who walks 
this earth of sorrow, or who toils in vain to clothe and 
feed his children, can stand in the presence of the 
man of millions, with no consciousness of inferiority. 
But when poverty is the result of crime, it becomes at 
once sinful and disgraceful ; when it is the result of 
gambling, or drinking, or lying, it covers its victim 
with a robe of shame. Under any circumstances it is 
exceedingly unpleasant and inconvenient to be very 
poor, and by most men, poverty is dreaded as one of 
the worst of evils. Now poverty is as sure to follow 
a course of intemperance, as light and heat to follow 
the rising of the sun. God has so ordained. In his 
word he has declared that the drunkard shall come to 
poverty, and wherever we behold drunkenness, we 
also gaze upon squalid misery. Go into any commu- 
nity and you will find affluence to be the result of so- 
briety, and destitution the sure attendant of dissipa- 
tion. You will expect to find in the neat, vine-cover- 
ed cottage, a frugal, temperate man ; and in the hovel, 
unpainted and desolate, the windows shattered, the 
doors unhinged, an intemperate and dissipated man. 
So universal is this fact, that we expect a young man 
to ruin himself, squander his property, become idle 
and worthless, when he commences a course of intem- 
perance. We predict with almost merring certainty, 
that a few years will make him a pauper or a crimi* 
ual, and leave him in a mad-house or prison, the vie* 



ISO THE YOUNG MAN'S FBIEND. 

fcim of his crimes. The wretched beings, who some- 
times reel along our streets, the sport of boyhood, and 
the shame of manhood ; the miserable creatures, who 
hide in cellars, and bar-rooms, and taverns, were once 
as respectable as those who now walk the earth, with 
proud step and lofty look. But forgetting the decla- 
ration of the Almighty, " the drunkard shall come to 
poverty," they took the social glass, and drank its 
contents. The pledge was disregarded, and the warn- 
ings of temperate men, unheeded. Step by step, 
they descended from respectability and affluence to 
wretchedness and woe. Property was wasted, and 
character sacrificed. Self-respect took its flight, and 
those who were once the enterprising, industrious, 
hopeful young men of our country, are now the reel- 
ing, staggering inhabitants of dens and caves of in- 
famy. 

One such case, came under my own observation, 
about one year ago. A young man, with whom I was 
intimate in childhood, became intemperate. When a 
boy, he had a generous heart, and a noble disposition. 
We all loved him, and of our circle, he was the pride 
and ornament. Friends looked to him, with the 
highest anticipations of his future usefulness. When 
at a proper age, he commenced business, and for 
awhile was exceedingly prosperous. The little prop- 
erty, which he had at first, increased, and he was 
looking forward to wealth and affluence. In an un- 



INTEMPERANCE. 181 

fortunate hour, he learned to drink the social glass, 
and drain the maddening bowl. Kind friends hung 
around him, and presented their remonstrances ; the 
church of which he was a member, uttered its kindest 
warnings ; an aged mother hung upon his steps with 
prayers and ttars. Heedless of them all, he clung 
to his boon companions, and his cups. "I shall 
never become a drunkard," he said, " I can control 
my appetite ; your fears are vain." Soon business 
Was neglected. The little fortune which he had ac- 
cumulated was scattered to the blast, and discouraged 
and disheartened, he became a drunkard. The asso- 
ciates of his early days stood aloof; the church, with 
many tears, and after many fruitless efforts to reform 
him, withdrew the hand of fellowship ; his mother 
died of a broken heart, and the young man himself, 
mortified and ashamed, fled from the scenes of his 
youth, and the companions of his childhood. 

One morning, about a year since, a messenger 
called at my door, and asked me to visit a young man 
in distress. Amid the peltings of the pitiless storm, 
I hastened to the place where he was. I found the 
street, the house — if house, the wretched tenement 
could be called. Up into the third story, I traveled, 
amid dirt and filth, and entered the chamber to which 
I was directed. In a cold room, on a bed of straw, 
covered with a single moth-eaten blanket, burning 
with fever, tortured with rheumatism, and delirious 



182 THE YOUNG MAN'S FMENT>. 

with drink, was stretched a young man. I could not 
recognize his countenance, or recall a single feature. 
"I do not know you," I said to him. He cast on 
me a look of agony, and replied : " Good God, has 
intemperance blotted out my manliness, and made me 
so much a demon, that my early associates do not 
know me ?" Then he covered his face, and wept 
aloud. 

His story is soon told. He was the young man, 
who in early life had given such promise of useful- 
ness. To one degree after another in his fatal habit 
he had advanced, until his money was gone, and he 
was a pauper. To our city he had wandered in 
search of employment, and here I found him, in the 
condition which I have described, with both feet 
frozen, and none to minister to his w 7 ants. In the 
wretched dwelling, and among the more wretched oc- 
cupants, he found no sympathy. He learned in all 
the bitterness of his spirit, that the drunkard will 
come to poverty. 

I would not affirm, that every case of intemperance 
will end like this, or that the destruction of every in- 
temperate young man, will be as speedy and as aw- 
ful. But sooner or later, poverty will crush the 
spirits of every man who " looketh upon the wine 
when it is red," or who goeth after strong drink. He 
may bear up against it for awhile, but it will ulti- 
mately overthrow him. It will perplex and disturb 



INTEMPERANCE. 183 

liis business ; it will mortgage his nouse, and his farm ; 
it will place an attachment upon his stocks ; it will 
ruin all his prospects for this life, and the life to 
come. 

2. Intemperance ruins the physical constitution. 
In the creation of the body, God has displayed infinite 
wisdom. More wonderful than any complicated work 
of human hands, it bears the impress of divinity. It is 
fearfully and wonderfully made, and is a specimen of 
workmanship, unrivaled in the arts. The Maker of 
man did not form him thus fearfully, in order that he 
might be broken by disease, and crushed by vice. 
He made him upright. He stamped the blush of 
health upon his cheek, and sent him forth to look 
upon the earth beneath his feet, and the heavens 
above his head. 

You have seen a beautiful machine, fulfilling the 
purpose of its maker, and working with order, regu- 
larity and harmony. You have examined it closely, 
and admired the perfection of all its parts. You 
have complimented the skill of the artizan, and deem* 
ed his work, one of extraordinary ingenuity. You 
have also seen that machine disarranged ; the order 
and harmony of its movements gone, and entirely in- 
capable of performing the work for which the maker 
designed it. 

The human body under the influence of intempe- 
rance, is like that disarranged and broken instru- 



184 THE YOUNG MAIS S FRIEND* 

ment. The purpose of its creation is defeated, and 
it becomes the seat of numberless diseases, aches and 
pains, son dws and woes, for which God never has in- 
tended it. The drunkard presents a fearful specimen 
of a broken-down man. From the head to the feet, 
he is covered with disease. He moves along the 
street, with downcast eyes, or staggers to and fro, 
with heavy tread ; his nerves are all unstrung, or 
braced beyond endurance ; his head aches and 
throbs ; his bloated face spoils the beauty of a hu- 
man being ; his knees totter and smite against each 
other ; his livid lips are closed over teeth decayed ; 
his swollen tongue prevents his ready utterance ; his 
idiotic look, betokens speedy death ; his eye glares at 
one time, and is languid and bloodshot at another ; 
and his brain is racked with a thousand fancies, and 
agonized by a thousand fears. Go search earth's 
darkest caves, and bring up to the blaze of day, the 
inmates of your prisons and dungeons ; your insane 
asylums and madhouses, and none will you find so 
miserable and degraded, so lost to all that makes up 
a perfect man, as the victim of intemperance. Take 
some case within the limits of your owtl observation ; 
some friend who tampered with the terrible destroyer, 
and been ruined. You knew him perhaps, when no 
shade of crime had passed over his manly counte- 
nance ; when he walked with his head erect, and his 
bosom bared to the storms of life ; when life flashed 



INTEMPERANCE. 135 

from his eye, and vigor was in his step; when the 
stranger noted his manly form, and correct deport- 
ment. Yon have seen that form bend, not with age ; 
you have seen that step falter, not from fear, and 
that once noble form reeling from the drunkard's pur- 
gatory, to he besotted and beast-like by the wayside. 
You have seen everything noble and beautiful in this 
God-made body, utterly spoiled ; the divinity in man 
crushed out of him, and the temple of the immortal 
soul laid in ruins. Nor will the young men w T hom I 
address to-night, avoid this terrible destruction of the 
human system, if they enter the fatal avenues which 
lead to the drunkard's fate. They may suppose that 
they have power to drink, or refrain from drinking. 
They may boast how strong they are, and how easily 
they can dash the inebriating cup to the earth. But 
their boasts are idle as the wind. The great army of 
drunkards with crippled limb, limping form, bleeding 
heart, and maddened brain, thousands of whom die 
every year, utter their notes of warning. The broken, 
diseased, death-struck forms of prostrate men, as they 
lie along the path of life, give fearful admonition. 
The opening graves, into which the remains of men 
are tumbled after they have cursed themselves and 
all around them ; graves on which the flowers seem 
unwilling to bloom, and over which the birds appeat 
to sing in sadness , graves wet by no widow's tears, 
consecrated by nc orphan's lament ; graves which 



186 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

angels shun, or by which they weep in sorrow, as on 
their mission of mercy, they pass through the city of 
the dead, all sound the alarm, and by the dumb elo- 
quence of their speechless harmony, bid the living 
throng, beware of the drunkard's hopeless doom. 
You remember the famous dream or vision of a dis- 
tinguished clergyman, for the publication of which, he 
was beaten in the street and imprisoned. The scene 
was said to be in Deacon Giles's Distillery. The 
dreamer saw the demon-workmen at their unhallowed 
employment, manufacturing with great zeal the elixir 
of death. He heard their ferocious and blasphemous 
expressions. While he gazed on, barrel after barrel 
of the accursed poison was drawn from the cistern 
and prepared for sale. The employment of one or 
more of the fiends was, to mark and label these bar- 
rels and hogsheads of rum and gin, which had been 
put up. Quenching a coal of fire in the liquid which 
he had made, the infernal monster went to work. On 
all the barrels, in letters which would remain invisible 
until thb first glass was drawn, and then burn forth 
like fire, he wrote, "consumption," "palsy," " fe- 
ver," " plague," "insanity," "madness," "redness 
of eyes," " sorrow of heart," "death," "damnation," 
and the like expressions, which, when the liquid death 
had been sold, and the buyers drew from it for the 
first time, flashed out in the faces of the thirsty cus- 
tomers, who stood waiting around the bar. With 



INTEMPERANCE. 187 

fearful consternation they saw written in words of 
flame, the diseases which they knew were preying 
upon their systems, and fled from the place in terror. 
What that Ireamer saw in vision, we behold an 
existing fact. Though on the barrels in the rum- 
shops, we do not find the words of fire written there 
by demon hands, yet we behold more fearful inscrip- 
tions on the living, dying countenances of men who 
walk our streets. Gleaming forth from fiery eyes ; 
seen on the wan and haggard cheek; read in the 
stooping forms and staggering tread ; heard in the 
hollow cough; felt in the aching head, and beating 
heart, proving to us that intemperance 

" Is palsy, plague, and fever, 
And madness all combined," 

are the fearful inscriptions of death and damnation. 

3. Intemperance looisons domestic felicity. The 
sacredness of home has often been made the subject 
of discourse. Scarcely a man now hears me, whose 
heart has not beat quickly, at the mention of the en- 
dearing word. Home — it is associated with all the 
pleasant scenes of childhood and youth ; with the 
names of companions, whose countenances are now 
forgotten ; with the prayers of parents and the love 
and kindness of brothers and sisters, who are now 
sleeping in the grave. Nor, until human nature bo 
changed, will this love of homo be entirely destroyed. 



188 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

Men who zander far away, over ocean and land, 
who journey from clime to clime, as fugitives and 
wanderers, look back with pleasant emotions to a spot 
which they call their " home." But intemperance, 
like gambling, is calculated to corrupt home, poison 
its joys, and wither its flowers. Many a family has 
been made wretched and miserable by intemperance. 
The fire on many a hearth has been put out, by the 
drink of death. Indeed, intemperance so transforms 
a man's character, that he is not prepared to fulfill 
the relations which exist between him and his family. 
However kind he may be when sober, however he may 
provide for the wants of his family, if he is an intem- 
perate man, he cannot be a good husband, or a good 
father. The thing is impossible. Drink transforms 
the kind and indulgent sire into the harsh, unjust, and 
cruel tyrant. Men, who when sober are affectionate 
and pleasant, become under the influence of inebria- 
tion, fierce and wicked. 

Awhile since, I became acquainted with a family, 
the head of which was a kind, inoffensive man, who 
loved his wife and his children with a pure affection. 
He was one of those peculiar men whose hearts are 
full of kindness for all around. He was, to some ex- 
tent, an intemperate man, and when drunken was the 
very reverse of what he was in his sober moments. 
On one occasion he returned to his home in a state 
of intoxication, and for awhile sat brooding by the 



INTEMPERANCE. 189 

fire, silent and stupid. Soon his son came in, a little, 
bright, intelligent boy of six years. The child afc 
school had received the commendation of his teacher, 
and in his joy had hastened home to repeat the words 
of kindness to his parent. Somewhat boisterously lie 
rushed into the room, and with eyes glistening with 
delight, threw himself into the father's arms. That 
brutal sire, changed from friend to fiend, uttered a 
fearful oath, threw the child from him, struck him 
in the face, and dashed him to the earth. What 
other acts of violence he would have committed we 
know not. The mother seized her child, the blood 
gushing from his nose and mouth, two of his teeth 
gone, and fled with him to the house of a neighbor. 
When reason returned, had that father committed 
murder, he could not have been more penitent. He 
cursed his cups, and yet clung to them. He cursed 
the man who sold him drink, and still hung about his 
workshop of death. He wept and prayed over his 
child, and still continued in the habit which caused 
the injury. 

Not long ago, the papers of our city gave us an 
account of a murder committed in our very midst. 
A husband, who in his sober moments was kind to his 
companion, in a fit of intemperance, had destroyed 
her life, and sent her spirit tc the bar of God. Not- 
withstanding his vow to be her support and protection, 
he caused her death. With* his own hands he beat 



190 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

and mangled her form, until the vital principle was 
gone, and then retired to bed, to sleep the drunkard's 
sleep, and dream the drunkard's dream. 

Southern papers, awhile since, gave an account too 
dreadful almost to be believed. A newly married 
couple had lived together, for a short time, in quiet 
and happiness. Soon after the marriage, the hus- 
band began to drink. The fatal habit rapidly in- 
creased upon him, and in two years, he was a miser- 
able drunkard. One night he returned home at a 
late hour, and found his w T ife in a flood of tears. 
With an oath, he commanded her W dry her cheeks. 
She could not. Tears had been her meat, day and 
night, and they came unbidden. She ventured to 
remonstrate. Seven devils seemed to enter into him. 
He struck her to the floor ; with a sharp knife he 
gashed her flesh, and hacked her limbs, and leaving 
her half dead, fled away. In the morning friends 
came in, and found the wife insensible, and her babe 
playing in the purple flood, and when they uttered 
exclamations of horror, the child held up its hands, 
covered with a mother's blood, and wept. 

I have introduced these cases, that I may ask, if 
man is bad enough, with all his depraved powers and 
passions, to accomplish deeds like these, without the 
aid of reason-robbing drink ? No ; crushed as human 
nature is by sin, it needs some artificial stimulant to 
bring it up to a point, where it can sever so recklessly 



INTEMPERANCE. 191 

the dearest ties of nature, and commit crimes, at 
which cruelty itself revolts. And we find intoxicat- 
ing drink, furnishing just the excitement which is re- 
quired to induce husbands to imbrue their hands in 
the blood of their wives, and fathers to destroy the 
lives of their children. We find intemperance lead- 
ing to family disturbances and social discord. We 
find it to be the cause of sorrow in households, and 
divisions between companions who have lived plea- 
santly for years. 

4. Intemperance impairs the intellect, and produces 
idiocy and madness. There is a strong sympathy 
between the physical and mental parts of man. One 
acts upon the other. If the body is diseased, the 
mind is also found to be in an unhealthy condition. 
If the mind is unhinged or thrown from its balance, 
the body suffers accordingly. The intellectual is 
more valuable than the physical. It will endure 
when the body has decayed, and will continue to be, 
after the material structure has disappeared. Now 
intemperance acts dire 3tly upon the mind itself, and 
indirectly through the medium of the physical consti- 
tution. The injury done to mind by this vice, is be- 
yond all calculation. Men of strong and vigorous in- 
tellect have been bowed by it ; shining talents have 
been dimmed and tarnished, and the fairest pros- 
pects of intellectual greatness blasted by its fatal 
influence. The legal and medical professions, and 



192 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

even the ministry, have lost some of their brightest 
ornaments, and been robbed of some of their choicest 
jewels, to gratify the lust of this accursed Moloch. 
Memory now recalls the form and countenance of 
one, who a few years since, bid fair to stand among 
the first orators at the bar. His professional services 
were held in high estimation; as an orator he was 
enthusiastically applauded ; as a profound scholar, an 
able statesman, a clear and vivid writer, he had but 
few superiors. The political party of which he was 
a member, nominated him for a seat in Congress, and 
but for the fatal habit of intemperance, he would have 
been elected. But all the hopes of his youth were to 
be disappointed. The love of strong drink grew upon 
him ; he was seen in a state of intoxication in the 
court-room ; confidence in him was soon lost, and now 
if you will visit the city of his birth, you will find the 
wreck of the once polished lawyer and accomplished 
statesman. His once powerful intellect is shattered, 
and although he was, but a few years since, the pride 
and admiration of the bar, he dares not now attempt 
an argument in open court. A hundred other cases 
equally plain and pitiable might be produced. The 
history of intemperance fa full of them, and on every 
page of its fearful record can be found the names of 
men, who have fallen from the highest summit of in- 
tellectual greatness, to the lowest depths of degrada- 
tion and infamy. The ravages of intemperance in its 



INTEMPERANCE. 193 

last stages, are fearful indeed. The mind becomes 
entirely overthrown, and loses all power of self-con- 
trol. Like a ship without rudder, or chart, or com- 
pass, it plunges on the terrible waters of a deep, dark 
sea. He who would see the intellect entirely de- 
throned, and hell begun on earth, must visit the bed 
of a man suffering with the torment of delirium tre- 
mens. The poor sufferer is haunted by every image 
of terror, he sees horrid shapes, he hears horrid 
sounds. Images, which no mortal man ever conceived 
of before, start up, and throng around him. Satan 
with all his legions come racing up from pandemo- 
nium to hold their infernal conclave in his chamber ; 
beside his dying bed. Ghosts of murdered men drag 
their bleeding bodies from the grave, and lay them 
at his feet. He sees — he hears — he feels everything 
dreadful. Each figure on the wall, becomes a fiend, 
which looks upon him with glaring eye ; the friends 
who move about the room in tearful silence, are to his 
disordered fancy, pale spectres, who cry avaunt, and 
shake at him their long, bony fingers ; the blanket 
which covers him, he imagines to be a huge snarl of 
snakes and reptiles woven together, and feasting on 
each other. Inconceivable terror takes possession of 
him ; he starts from his bed in anguish ; he bids the 
fiends begone, and hears only their mockery. He 
utters heart-rending cries, which echo far down the 
street at midnight ; he pleads with his physician to 
13 



194 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND, 

tear the strangling serpents from his throat, to drive 
away the demons, who have come to torment him be- 
fore his time. 

In what prison or mad-house, can you find insanity 
like this ? In what lone cell, or daiK chamber, can 
you find madness which equals that of the dying 
drunkard ? In the darkest secrets of human misery 
the delirium tremens has no counterpart, and as a 
source of unspeakable anguish, and unmitigated mis- 
ery, it stands alone, unrivalled by anything this side 
of perdition. 

A few months ago, a virtuous, amiable young man, 
was bitten by a mad dog, and awhile afterwards died 
of hydrophobia. In the arms of that terrible disease, 
the hapless victim lived a few hours in excruciating 
torment, pleading with his friends to give him some 
drug which would destroy life. The fearful news 
spread rapidly from one to another ; for awhile this 
awful disease was the subject of conversation in all 
circles ; the press uttered its warning, and the pulpit 
made use of the solemn providence. All were alarm- 
ed ; cities framed laws, and the great commonwealth 
made the disease the subject of solemn legislation. 
Muzzles and chains were used ; dogdom was in ter- 
ror, and hundreds of these creatures have been de- 
stroyed. All this is well — I would not have it other- 
wise. I only ask that the madness of intemperanco 
may receive a like attention. In the whole history of 



INTEMPERANCE. 195 

a city, but one case of hydrophobia has occurred — but 
one death from the fearful malady, and yet the town 
is all agog ; editors are writing, ministers are preach- 
ing, and lawyers are pleading, that something be 
done, while the madness of intemperance — a disease 
infinitely more to be dreaded than the hydrophobia, is 
destroying its victims every month, and no one seems 
to be alarmed. 

Suppose you, a man should build houses on the cor- 
ners of every street, that from their doors and win- 
dows, he might let loose upon the unthinking popu- 
lace, mad dogs of every size and tribe, to bite the 
people, and spread the poison of disease throughout 
the whole community ; what would be thought of him ? 
Why, the law would lay its heavy hand upon his mur- 
derous vocation, close his doors, and drag him to 
Borne place of confinement. And here are men found 
on almost every street whose sole business is, to let 
loose upon society insanity and madness in their 
worst forms, who send their rum dogs, mad as Satan, 
to bite with venomed tooth the loveliest members of 
our families, whose trade is, to spread among men, 
the worst kind of hydrophobia, and make war alike 
upon the bodies and the souls of our fellow-creatures. 

5. No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of Gf-od. 
This is the solemn declaration of an inspired penman. 
And how reasonable ife truth ! The kingdom of God 
is a place or state of purity. We are informed that 



196 THE YOUNG MAN'S FMEND. 

there, shall be heard no discordant clamor ; no voice 
of wrangling and bitterness ; no sound of disorder, 
tumult and wrong. There, all is pure, all is lovely, 
all is holy. There angels sing, and holy beings make 
sweet music to God aid the Lamb. Gathered there 
from every clime, are the holy men of earth ; men 
who have toiled and suffered in this world, having no 
abiding place below the skies. There is no night 
there — no tears — no sorrow. One deep, wide wave 
of glory and delight, submerges all. And can the 
drunkard expect to live in such a world ? Can he 
whose lips have so long given utterance to blasphemy, 
attune them to the melody of heaven ? No ; the word 
of God declares the thing to be impossible. The 
drunkard's voice would make a discordant sound in 
the world of bliss. His shout would burst like a wail 
of despair upon the startled inhabitants of the celes- 
tial abode, and contrasting his own deformed and 
crime-blasted character with the purity and bliss 
around him, he would find heaven to be more intoler- 
able than the deepest pit in hell. And where shall 
the poor drunkard go ? He has misery and suffering 
on the earth, and where shall he go ? Look upon him 
as in his chamber, in the last stages of delirium tre- 
mens, he is held upon the bed by strong hands ; see 
his wild and horror-struck countenance ; hear his ter- 
rible, blasphemous expressions ; gaze upon his rolling 
eye, and behold his consternation as he imagines that 



INTEMPERANCE. 197 

his room is filled with snakes and devils ; and tell 
me, where shall he go ? 

One word more, and I will close. In all largo 
cities, young men are exposed to numberless tempta- 
tions. On every side are the snares of the enemy, 
and from the gay saloon with its glittering ornaments, 
to the low hovel of wretched inebriation, are found 
the sources of intemperance and vice. Beside the 
open and known resorts of infamy, are secret dens 
and caves in which the wicked hide themselves, and 
into which the young are decoyed and ruined. A 
friend, a few days since, entered one of the most pub- 
lic buildings in one of our cities, and came to the door 
of a room which refused him entrance. He discov- 
ered a secret spring, and touched it. The door flew 
open, and he saw in full operation the bar, and the 
gaming-table. Congregated there in the broad day, 
and yet concealed from human view, were the wretch- 
ed beings who make crime a pastime and sin a recrea- 
tion. And other such places there are in all our 
large cities, whose sole object is the destruction of 
the young. To these facts it is worse than madness 
to blind our eyes. They meet us on every hand; 
they stare us in the face at every turn we take. 

Young men, it devolves on you to say what shall 
be the future history of the temperance reformation. 
It devolves on you to say how far the burning 
waves of intemperance shall sweep on, and where they 



198 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

shall be stayed. I therefore call upon you, in the 
name of our common humanity, to arise in all the 
vigor of youth, and manliness, and arrest, if possible, 
the tide of ruin which is sweeping oyer the beauty of 
our land. We need warm hearts and willing hands. 
The monster with whom we have to contend, is more 
powerful than kings and emperors, and will not be 
defeated without a struggle. Come then to the work 
of humanity ; the work of God. It will ultimately 
triumph, and intemperance will be driven from the 
world. We may toil long against the evil, but vic- 
tory will eventually crown our labors. It is the cause 
of human happiness, and would reflect glory upon the 
angels of God, were they permitted to engage in it. 
Be not discouraged, though little may seem to be 
effected. 

li Never doubt a righteous cause ; 
Go ahead ! 
Throw yourself completely in ; 
Conscience shaping all your laws, 
Manfully through thick and thin, 

Go ahead ! 
Do not ask who'll go with you • 

Go ahead ! 
Numbers ? spurn the coward's plea ! 
If there be but one or two, 
Single handed though it be, 

Go ahead ! 
Though before you mountains rise. 

Go ahead ! 
Scale them ? certainly you can : 



INTEMPERANCE. 199 

Let them proudly dare the skies ; 
What are mountains to a man ? 

Go ahead ! 
Though fierce waters round you dash, 

Go ahead ! 
Let no hardship baffle you : 
Though the heavens roar and flash, 
Still undaunted, firm, and true. 

Go ahead!"* 

Invoke the assistance of " God o'erhead," and do your 
duty well, and when the course of life is run, and the 
last hour of human probation arrives, you will look 
back upon your efforts to stay the tide of crime, 
and save the drunkard from temporal and eternal 
destruction, with high and holy satisfaction. Angels 
will whisper in your ear of men redeemed from vice 
and crime, and by your hand plucked as brands from 
the burning. Such tidings will be sweeter music to 
your worn spirit, than all the anthems of the earth, 
and though borne upon the blast, or wafted on the 
gentle breeze, the flourish of trumpets, or the melody 
of the organ, mav disturb the silence of your death- 
chamber, the memory of your good act, will kneel by 
your dying couch, and do its homage there, and 
breathe upon you a sweeter strain than can be pur- 
chased by the wealth, the honors, the noisy pomp 
and parade of empires. 

* George A. Light, 




LECTURE IX. 

THE DETECTION OP SIN CERTAIN. 
Be sure your sin will find you out. Numbers^ xxxii. 23. 

- IN is generally committed with the hope 
and prospect of concealment. Did the 
criminal believe that he should be de- 
tected and punished, he would be de- 
terred from the practices which have ruined so 
many of the young men of our land. Did the 
prospect of discovery and disgrace rise up before 
every one who goes forth to the commission of 
iniquity, hundreds would start back as from a 
horrid vision, and shun crime as a thing of fear- 
ful character. When men go forth to steal, they 
pass along with noiseless tread, and cautiously 
find their way to the golden treasure. They en- 
deavor to erase every sign of their crime, and 
leave their own reputation stainless. The ideas 
of detection and disgrace, if they ever enter the 
mind, are driven out, and the criminal looks 
forward to enjoyment and not detection ; to im- 

(200) 



THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN, 201 

punity, and not punishment. He knows that he may 
be overtaken, that he may be exposed, but the cer- 
tainty that he will be exposed, does not seem to enter 
his mind. 

The midnight murderer hopes that his crime will 
be concealed forever. His motto is, " Dead men 
tell no tales ;" and when the voice of his victim is 
hushed in death, when his tongue has ceased to move, 
he imagines that his dreadful deed will be covered up 
from all human scrutiny. He often moves through 
life, with his head erect. He converses about the 
murder which he has committed as freely as if he 
was innocent. Sometimes such persons will even 
allow themselves to be put on committees of investi- 
gation, and in all possible ways seek to blind the eyes 
of the community. 

Thus is it with all criminals, of less or greater mag- 
nitude. They attempt to shut every door which 
would seem to be an inlet of light, and hope that 
the crime which they have done, will be buried up 
forever. But how vain is such a hope ! The declar- 
ation of the " Holy One," is, " There is nothing cov- 
ered which shall not be revealed ; neither hid, which 
shall not be known." The murderer may do his deed 
of blood in the darkness of the darkest night; the 
robber may meet his victim, miles from any human 
habitation, and bury the body of him whom he has 
robbed in the leaves of the forest, or sink it in the 



202 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

channel of the stream ; the pirate may wash his decks 
with the waves of ocean, and erase from his sails 
every spot of blood ; he may murder the whole crew ; 
he may burn and sink the vessel of his victims ; but 
in all these cases, the crimes will be made known. 
Darkness, and distance from human beings, and the 
moanings of the pathless ocean, will not cover or con- 
ceal the tokens of guilt. The ground will spout forth 
the blood ; the earth will disgorge the buried bodies ; 
and the ocean will bear them scarred, gashed, and 
lifeless, to the shore, where the dead hand shall he 
pointing ocean-ward, as if seeking the detection of the 
assassin. 

Of course I am not speaking to a congregation of 
robbers or murderers. I am not preaching to those 
whose hands are red with blood, and whose con- 
sciences are corrupted and corroded with stains of 
awful crime. But I am speaking to a company of 
sinners ; to a congregation of men and women who 
have all been involved in guilt, and who notwithstand- 
ing their many virtues are, to some extent, charge- 
able with wrong. If all are sinners, it is not unjust 
to suppose, that many have sins which they are endea- 
voring tc conceal ; sins which they would not wish to 
have known, even to their dearest friends. I think 
the purest man that ever walked this earth of ours, 
would hardly wish to have all his thoughts and feel- 
ings laid open before the world. There are so many 



1<HE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 203 

wicked thoughts, desires, and deeds, hovering around 
human life, that the noblest and the best would shrink 
from an investigation. Nor is it unreasonable to sup 
pose, that among so large a crowd of young men as 
throng our cities, there are those who have entered 
some of the fatal avenues of guilt, and are hiding it 
from their friends, and from the public gaze. It is 
not unreasonable to believe, that some have allowed 
unholy thoughts to manifest themselves in unholy con- 
duct. There may be amid this throng, some one who 
has learned to love the music of the gambler's voice ; 
who has begun to sip the poison-cup of inebriation ; 
who lives in violation of the holy Sabbath, and who 
profanes the name of God, without hesitancy. To 
lead such to renounce sin, and avoid crime, I wish to 
urge several considerations connected with the detec 
tion of every transgressor. 

I. The strong probability. The probabilities 
that sin will be detected, are confined to this life. In 
infinite wisdom God has so arranged the great drama 
of a changing world ; so contrived its shifting scenes, 
that crimes are discovered when most we desire and 
expect concealment, and there is a strong probability 
that the vicious will be detected and exposed. Theso 
probabilities are, 

1. TJie confessions of associates. In wrong courses 
and in crimes, men generally have some assistants 
and accomplices. They seldom go alone to commit 



204 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

deeds of darkness and madness. They choose asso 
ciates resembling themselves in moral character, and 
to them impart their secrets, and unfold their pur- 
poses. They make their companions acquainted with 
all their views and feelings, and thus place their lives 
in the hands of others. Now there is a strong proba- 
bility that these associates will reveal the secret and 
expose the sin. Bad men do not long remain in com- 
pany without strife, and the very person to whom 
the knowledge of the crime has been communicated, 
becomes the source of information and exposure. 
How often do we hear of crimes thus exposed. Long 
buried, and covered from human gaze, the criminal 
has rejoiced in the prospect of everlasting conceal 
ment, when lo ! his accomplice, the sharer of the 
spoils, the partner of his guilt, becomes his accuser. 
The crime long forgotten is uncovered, the author 
of it is branded with disgrace, and the scene ends in 
misery and sorrow. Indeed, so common is the con- 
fession of associates, that we all expect crime to be 
detected. When the tidings of murder, or robbery, 
or wrong of any kind, are running through the coun 
try, we watch the next daily paper to see the name 
of the criminal, and learn his fate. We feel confident 
that he will not escape ; that some voice will whisper 
words in secret, which shall be spoken upon house- 
tops, and those words such as shall make condemna- 
tion certain. The horrid murder which was commit- 



THE DETECTION OE SIN CERTAIN. 205 

ted beneath the walls of Waterville College, the 
solemn tones of which have echoed far and wide 
over our land, and produced sadness in many circles, 
was exposed by one to whom the unfortunate physi- 
cian, who committed the crime, looked to for conceal- 
ment and confidence. The very man who was to 
bury the body, and hide forever all traces of guilt, 
was the one on whom the law relied to prove the 
crime, and fasten it upon one who stood high in the 
esteem and confidence of the people, and who was 
rising rapidly to eminence in his profession.* 

2. The power of memory. It would be well for 
every criminal, to forget his own crimes. Could this 
be the case, detection would be much less certain, as 
far as this life is concerned. The man who has been 
guilty of some crime will frequently act in a suspi- 
cious manner. He will exhibit signs of guilt, when 
none around him suspect him of being involved in 
crime. He will dream at night, and start up with 
words upon his lips, which he would not care to have 
uttered. He will shun his fellow-men lest they see 
the agony of his heart depicted upon his countenance. 

* Since this lecture was delivered, the providence of God has 
unfolded another diabolical attempt to murder on the part of 

C— - . A plan deeply laid has been discovered when ready to 

be put in execution, and the life of an innocent man saved ; while 
the foul murderer, foiled by a superior wisdom, and baffled by the 
Almighty, has rushed up to meet his Maker, uncalled and unbid- 
den, a melancholy suicide. 



206 

He -will show to those around him, that something ia 
working upon his mind, and preying upon his heart. 
It is not seldom that the power of memory, by keep- 
ing the fact before the mind of the criminal himself, 
will betray him, and well would it be for every man 
who has done wrong, if he could blot the memory of 
the fact, as well as the fact itself, from the tablets of 
the heart, on which it stands recorded. But this can 
not be the case. The lamp of memory will burn -as 
long as the soul of man endures ; it will stream its 
lurid light over every act of guilt, and forever flame 
with fearful intensity. It is supposed that nothing 
can be lost to memory ; that every act of life is trea- 
sured up ; that every thought which flits through the 
mind, and every word which escapes from the lips, 
makes an indelible impression. Though at times 
other objects may engross the attention, and some- 
times we may lose entirely all recollection of what 
has passed, yet, sooner or later, memory will bring it 
up again. From her chambers where they have been 
concealed, but not destroyed, will past crimes start 
forth and hang like coals of fire, upon the conscience 
and the heart. I have been told by those who have 
fallen from high places, or crushed in whirling ma- 
chinery and exposed to sudden, instant death, that 
in a space of time inconceivably short, the whole life 
was presented. Deeds long forgotten and buried out 
of sight ; words whose sounds long since had perish- 



THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 207 

ed ; thoughts which had not been cherisned for years, 
came rushing across the mind, and in an instant 
thronged before the mental vision with startling accu- 
racy. In the instant of time which was required by 
the ponderous wheel to turn with crushing force, the 
whole of this life, and a fearful view of the next, 
were given, and an age of misery endured in a single 
moment of time. Nor will the powers of memory 
ever fail ; as each age of the future expires, and 
wave after wave of eternal duration sinks back upon 
the shores of the past, memory will be gaining more 
fearful power over those who have made earth the 
theatre of crime. This awful power constitutes the 
mirror of the soul, which grows brighter from every 
impression made upon it. It will contribute essen- 
tially to develop crime, and uncover deeds of dark 
ness, which all the ingenuity of the criminal has been 
unable to hide. It will expose to the public gaze, 
men who have long and fondly hoped for perfect 
security, and lay open to the hand of justice, and the 
ministers of the law, the criminals who have enjoyed 
their ill-gotten gains in fancied security. 

3. The upbraidings of conscience. Conscience is 
the voice of God in the human soul. It is a principle 
implanted by the Almighty, within the bosom of every 
human being, to teach him what is right and what is 
wrong. When a man performs that which is accep 
table to God, conscience will approve, and when he 



203 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

violates the law of God, this faithful monitor will utter 
its admonition and speak out its condemnation. The 
power of conscience, of remorse, is great ; and the 
most remarkable instances are on record, in which 
conscience has led the criminal to betray himself and 
confess, not only to God, but to man, the wrong which 
he has committed. I remember having heard of a 
man who in early life, was induced to rob his own 
father, by which the poor man was brought to bank- 
ruptcy and death. The son enjoyed his treasure for 
awhile, but conscience was busy at work upon his 
mind. His crime, his fearful crime, was continually 
before him. True, he did not fear detection. He 
had buried all traces of his deed so deeply, that he 
supposed no person could find it out, but his own un- 
natural conduct was a greater source of trouble, than 
all the fears of discovery. To drive away these feel- 
ings, he left the scenes of his infancy and childhood ; 
plunged into business ; buried himself up in the cares 
of the world, and in every way possible, endeavored 
to drown the voice which uttered its ceaseless up- 
braidings. But every attempt proved to be a failure. 
The form of his aged sire, as he went down to the 
grave, wronged of his property, and sorrow-stricken, 
was before his mind. He heard one voice — he saw 
one object — he felt one pang. It was the voice, the 
reproach, the condemnation of conscience. Twenty 
years rolled away, and his misery had become so 



THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 209 

great, that he came forward and confessed his crime. 
To the members of his own family, some of whom had 
been born since the wrong was committed, he unfold- 
ed the story, and then gave himself up to the officers 
of justice. I doubt not, there are some in every com- 
munity who suffer from the reproaches of conscience. 
Concealed crime festers on the heart, and produces a 
wound which no hand can heal. Under the power 
and influence of this terrible attendant, the most ag- 
gravated crimes have been confessed and punished. 
Murderers and robbers, seducers and forgers, have 
come forward, and without hesitancy declared their 
guilt, and asked of the courts of justice, the sentence 
of the law. The deed, forgotten by all biV the crimi- 
nal, has been told, and the miserable one himself has 
desired punishment, as the only means of relieving 
his conscience of its torturing load of sorrow. 

4. The providences of God. In a most wonderful 
manner, the providences of God work out his designs. 
When we contemplate the way in which the Almighty 
deals with his creatures, we are surprised. At first, 
there appears to be no order, no design, no harmony, 
in all his mysterious workings. The law of confusion 
reigns among men, and we can see but little order in 
the system of divine providence. But as we gaze, 
and study ; as we watch the unfolding plan and pur- 
pose ; as we learn more of God and his ways, we are 
surprised more at the order and harmony, than we 
14 



210 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

previously had been at the apparent disorder and con- 
fusion. We find the whole system of divine opera- 
tions to be regulated by an unerring hand, and con- 
troled and governed by almighty power. We see the 
plan of God opened, and rendered successful. Provi- 
dences which have been as dark as midnight, are now 
illustrated and made to show forth the praise of God, 
and surprising order is seen in all the wise arrange- 
ments. 

In the most mysterious manner does the providence 
of God sometimes expose crime. A train of events 
which no human being could have set in operation, 
leads to the most startling developments, and crimi- 
nals who have eluded the pursuit, and even the obser- 
vation and suspicion of a most vigilant police, are 
discovered and punished, after all hope of detection 
had died out. The most trifling circumstances will 
be connected with a series of events which develop 
and bring to light, deeds which have for years been 
buried from all human scrutiny. The singular move- 
ments of some domestic animals; the words written 
upon the wadding of some discharged gun ; the cav- 
ing in of banks, in the sand of which dead bodies 
have been buried, and other things as trivial, lead to 
the detection of men who suppose they have con- 
cealed all tokens of guilt in the graves of their vic- 
tims. And this providence will assist in the detec- 
tion of all other criminals of smaller or greater guilt. 



THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 211 

God is pledged against sin ; he abhors crime, and is 
resolutely determined to punish all who commit it. 
His providence, like a key, will unlock the secrets of 
darkness, and like a skilful hand, will unravel the 
thread of life, and expose when least we expect it, 
its follies and crimes. Nor can the sinner control 
these mysterious workings of the divine mind and 
purpose. What we may deem best calculated to 
hide, conceal, and cover up our sins, may be the very 
thing which shall expose our faults, and bring shame 
and disgrace. Letters written and disguised; re- 
marks made to direct attention to another quarter ; 
weapons thrown into the bushes by the wayside, all, 
instead of proving innocence, become proofs of guilt, 
and are used for a purpose the reverse of which was 
intended. It is related of an eminent clergyman, 
that on one occasion while walking in a graveyard, 
he saw the sexton throwing up the bones of a human 
being. He took the skull in his hands, and on exam- 
ination, saw a nail sticking into the temple. He 
drew it out, placed it in his pocket, and asked the sex- 
ton whose skull it was. On receiving the necessary 
information he went to the house of the widow, and 
entered into conversation with her. He asked her, 
of what disease her husband died, and while she was 
giving an answer, drew the nail from his vest, and 
asked her if she ever saw it before. Struck with 
horror at the unexpected question, the wretched wo« 



212 THE YOUNG MAN r i3 FhlEND. 

man confessed that she murdered her husband ; that 
her own hand had driven the nail into his temple. 

5. The bed of death. Hundreds of persons pass 
through life unpunished, and though surrounded by 
observers escape detection, until they come to the 
bed of death. Hundreds, when they arrive at the 
last hour of probation, and stand on the outward 
boundary of life, are compelled by the awful circum- 
stances in which they find themselves, to unburden 
their souls of the crimes which may have rested there 
for years, and which now come up from the deep re- 
treats of memory to sting and poison, like venomous 
serpents. It does a sin-agonized spirit good to con- 
fess, and the dying hour has extorted many a tale of 
blood, shame, and folly, from the wretched man whose 
crime, like a fire shut up in his bones, has been con- 
cealed only that it may be revealed at last, under cir- 
cumstances of greater awfulness. 

Go to the death-bed of the wicked man, and you 
will hear him bewailing his sin. All his life, has his 
heart been growing harder and harder, until like 
steel it resisted every impression, but in an hour it is 
now dissolved. His lips have never been attuned to 
the simple melody of confession or prayer ; but now 
one ceaseless stream of confession pours from him. 
This sin and that, this folly and that, rises up before 
him, and he asks forgiveness of God and mar. In- 
deed, the soul seldom dares rush into eternity with a 



THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN, 213 

weight of sin crushing it down. The dying man 
would make clean breast, and do all that confession 
can do to make the burden less. 

To such a death-bed scene will every unrepentant 
sinner come ; such broken confessions will be the lan- 
guage of every heart which is not renewed and 
changed by God. 

Thus far I have spoken of the detection of sin, as 
probable. The probability is very strong, as most 
criminals find it. But there is another view of the 
subject ; a stronger and more fearful view, to which 
I will turn your attention. 

II. The awful certainty. The language of 
Scripture, the caution which it gives to all, is, " Be 
sure your sins will find you out." " For there is 
nothing covered which shall not be revealed, neither 
hid which shall not be known." On this point, the 
Bible leaves no chance for doubt, no opportunity to 
cavil or dispute. All sin shall be revealed. Com 
mitted in the darkest night, or in the brightest day ; 
in the desert solitude, or in the crowded city ; with 
or without associates ; by man or woman ; by angel 
or demon — it will not escape notice — it will not 
avoid condemnation and punishment. 

1. Because every sin is seen by Grod, This is one 
of the most fearful considerations which can be pre- 
sented to the mind of the sinner. God sees him. 
The eye which never slumbers, has watched all his 



214 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

movements ; detected all his faults, and beheld all 
his sins. He may have concealed them from father 
and mother, wife and child ; on earth no mortal may 
tread, who has the least suspicion of what he has 
done, and yet all is known. God's eye has been fixed 
upon the deed, and he knew it all. Darkness, se- 
crecy, and deception, have been unable to hide it 
from his view. This terrible conviction seemed to 
press upon the mind of David, when he exclaimed, 
" Whither shall I go from thy presence, whither shall 
I flee from thy Spirit. Thou art in heaven ; thou art 
in hell ; thou art in the uttermost parts of the earth. 
Darkness hideth not from thee ; light is ever around 
thee ; the night shineth as the day." 

With the same propriety every sinner may use this 
language, and apply it to his own case ; God is every- 
where. He sees and knows all things, and under- 
stands even the thoughts of his creatures. It is in 
vain that an attempt is made to conceal our sins from 
his notice, or hide them from his gaze. He saw our 
first parents, when in the bowers of Eden they ate 
the forbidden fruit ; he saw Cain, when with wicked 
hand, he smote his brother, and slew him ; he saw 
the sins of the old world, which was before the 
flood ; he saw the sins of his own people, the Jews ; 
and as surely does he see, mark, condemn and 
punish our sins. Hide them from the minions of the 
law ; hide them from the good and holy ; hide them 



THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 215 

from loved friends and hated foes, and yet you can- 
not hide them from the eye of God. Piercing down 
through the realms of space, the awful scrutiny of the 
Infinite One is fixed upon us all, and as soon can we 
fly from our own existence, as from *the gaze of Je- 
hovah. 

2. All sin will be revealed at the day of judgment. 
We are informed in the inspired word, that a record 
of all the deeds of men is kept ; that in a book 
of remembrance, all the good and evil actions of 
life are recorded. What that book of remembrance 
is, matters not to us. The great fact that our accu- 
mulating sins are all to be treasured up, and at last 
exposed, is a terrible one. None but a man whose 
heart is hard, or whose mind is darkened by sin, could 
reflect upon it, without serious forebodings. Nor are 
the circumstances under which this revelation is to be 
made, calculated to remove, in the least, the sorrow 
of such an occurrence. We are led to believe that it 
will take place at the hour when all men, from all 
climes have assembled before God ; when the world 
which we now inhabit, and which has been increasing 
in the splendor of its towns, towers, and temples, for 
ages, is all wrapped in the flames of the last confla- 
gration , when the moon has turned to blood, and the 
sun has gone out in darkness, and the stars have 
fallen, like worlds of fire, from their courses on high ; 
when the clouds are rolled together as a scroll ; when 



216 TBE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

from their long resting-places, the dead are starting 
forth to life and immortality ; when the righteous 
shall be shouting notes of glory and singing anthems 
of deliverance, and the wicked are howling in the 
madness of despair ; when has come, 

" A scene that yields 
A louder tempest, and more dreadful fields ; 
The world alarmed, both earth and heaven overthrown, 
And gasping Nature's last tremendous groan ; 
Death's ancient sceptre broke, the teeming tomb, 
The Eighteous Judge, and man's eternal doom." 

At such an hour, and under such fearful circum- 
stances, will the array of crimes which we have com- 
mitted, present themselves before our bewildered 
minds. In that solemn assembly will they be read 
in the hearing of the whole intelligent universe. 
Then will parents learn for the first time, what have 
been the lives of their children ; then will children 
see how many errors clustered around the lives of pa- 
rents ; then will wives and husbands, brothers and 
sisters, learn of each other what they never dreamed 
or imagined before, and the secrets of all hearts shall 
be made known. 

I w T ell know that with many persons, the idea of a 
future judgment is rejected as absurd and ridiculous. 
Not a few indulge in open sport with the solemn 
things which are connected with it, and even churches 
are erected, and pulpits built, and men set apart, to 



THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 217 

silence the fears which the Bible gives in regard to 
it. And yet, as true as there is a God, and that 
God is the author of his own inspired word, the hour 
of judgment will come. Though long delayed by the 
goodness and mercy of God, the hour will come. The 
trumpet of the archangel will startle the living throng, 
and awaken the pale nations of the dead. The great 
white throne will be erected ; the righteous and the 
wicked will be separated, and the winding up of all 
things will come. 

And now, I ask, m view of all that has been said 
this evening ; in view of all the solemn considerations 
which I have presented, should not the young cease 
from crime and learn to do well ? If in this life, 
there is a strong probability, and in the life to come, 
a positive certainty, that sin will be detected, and if 
detected, punished, should not those who are engaged 
in practices which they know to be wrong, forsake 
them ? The declaration of God is, " Whoso covereth 
his sins shall not prosper," and this declaration has 
been found to be true in all ages of the world. Crime 
may prosper for awhile, the wicked man may spread 
himself like a green bay-tree, and grow tall in his 
iniquity, but erelong the hand of God will be laid 
upon him ; his dishonesty and criminality will be ex- 
posed to the gaze of justice, and his hopes and pros- 
pects of success will wither away. 

The all-seeing eye of God is fixed on each of us. 



218 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIENB. 

Our hearts, our secret thoughts, are known to Him. 
We could not if we would, hide a single feeling, a 
single motive, a single desire. What folly then, to 
commit sin ! Darkness and night cannot hide it ; it 
will be exposed. And let the impression rest on our 
minds as we separate this evening, that the wicked, 
the vile, the abandoned, the murderer, the robber, 
the adulterer, are not to be judged alone. The mem- 
bers of this congregation will stand with the gathered 
millions, who come from all the ages of the past to 
receive their reward, or hear their doom. On that 
awful day, let me inquire, where according to your 
present character, you will stand ? 

"When Thou my righteous Judge shalt come 
To take thy ransomed people home, 

Shall I among them stand ? 
Shall such a worthless worm as I, 
"Who sometimes am afraid to die, 

Be found at thy right hand ? " 



LECTURE X. 

THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 

Wherewith shall a young- man cleanse his way . J By taking heed there- 
to according to thy word. Psalm, cxix. 9. 



€ 



'HE question proposed is of considerable 
importance, and gathers greatness when- 
ever we contemplate the duties and dan- 
gers of young people. Situated as they 
are in life, and exposed to its trials and tempta- 
tions, they need an infallible guide, an unerring 
counsellor. With no such guide and counsellor, 
impelled by the impetuosity and inexperience of 
youth, our young men will leave the beaten 
paths to success and greatness, and wander about 
in the wilderness of disappointment. No judi- 
cious mariner would enter a dangerous harbor 
for the first time, or sail up a river which 
has sunk thousands of vessels, without a pilot. 
However he might control his vessel while out 
upon the broad ocean, he would fear lest his 
ship should strike on some hidden rock, or some 

(219) 



220 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

concealed bar, and go to pieces, while his skill would 
avail nothing. Hence, when he arrived at the en- 
trance of such a harbor, or the mouth of such a river, 
he would discharge his cannon, and hoist his signals, 
• that the pilot might know of his arrival, and come to 
guide him into port* The young man needs a guide 
over the ocean of life, as much as the sailor needs a 
pilot through the dangerous passage, or up the rocky 
river. And where can such a guide, such a pilot, 
over life's sea be found ? The Bible alone presents 
a perfect standard of human character, and a per- 
fect guide for man under all circumstances of life. 
Inspired by God, and written out by holy men, it 
contains no errors, and admits of no mistakes ; it pre- 
scribes with great distinctness the duties and obliga- 
tions of the aged and the young ; it will preserve the 
way of the youthful traveler, to his journey's end ; it 
will elevate the mind, improve the heart, and give 
gladness to the spirit. 

You will, therefore, allow me to recommend the 
Bible to young men, 

I. A.S A PERFECT GUIDE IN RELATION TO THE 

duties OF life. The duties devolving upon us in 
this life, are numerous and important. The relations 
which we sustain to others, place us under obligation, 
and this obligation is nowhere so clearly delineated, 
as in the word of inspiration. Of importance is it, 
that we understand what we owe to others, and what 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT 1UIDE. 221 

tr 

they owe to us. A duty imperfectly understood, will 
be imperfectly performed, and if we have no guide 
on subjects 'of such magnitude, we shall make many 
mistakes and errors. 

1. The Bible teaches the young man his duty to 
himself. It is the duty of every young man to be 
intelligent, virtuous, and respectable. In our days, 
immorality and ignorance are without excuse, and the 
man who is found with a depraved heart, and a be- 
clouded mind is not only unfortunate, but guilty. 
There was a time when man could be ignorant with- 
out sin, but in the centre of the flood of light and in- 
formation which is poured upon the world, ignorance 
.Mcomes a sin, and is in the highest degree disgrace- 
ful to all who are found in its fetters. This the Bible 
teaches, and we are commanded to secure wisdom 
and knowledge, and ample opportunity is given us in 
the works of nature which are spread out, and the 
sources of information within our reach. Most per- 
sons suppose the Bible requires of us, nothing in re- 
gard to literary and scientific attainments ; that w r e 
can be wise or ignorant at our own option ; but this 
is a mistake. Mind, intelligent mind, is one of God's 
most precious gifts to man, and he demands of us the 
full improvement of it. 

The cultivation of self-respect is also enjoined by 
the Bible, and certain principles are established, by 
the observance of which, a young man may respect 



222 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

himself, and secure the approbation of all good men. 
Every person is under obligation so to live, that he 
can look upon his own conduct and character with 
feelings of respect, and not shame and mortification. 
The Bible does, indeed, forbid our estimating our- 
selves more highly than we ought to do, forbids our 
attaching an undue importance to our own works, but 
it nowhere forbids self-respect, nowhere discourages a 
laudable attempt to secure the well wishes of others. 
There is a conscious dignity of character, differing 
from pride and selfish esteem, which is one of the 
safeguards of youth. It gives a feeling of manliness, 
and enables its possessor to repel the assaults of temp- 
tation and sin, and stand erect amid descending tor- 
rents of abuse, supported by the fact that he has a 
reputation to sustain, a character to lose or keep. 

The pursuit of happiness is also required by the 
Bible. The avenues which lead to it, are all laid 
open to the youthful seeker, and he can enter them 
and secure the prize. The Bible instead of forbid- 
ding, enjoins the pursuit of pleasure in any reason- 
able way. It gives permission, even to the Christian, 
to secure wealth, honor, health, and friends, in a 
proper manner, and to a proper extent. It only con- 
demns and prohibits the inordinate and destructive 
pursuit of things in themselves valuable, but rendered 
worthless by being too eagerly pursued, and too fond- 
ly loved. With its unerring wisdom, the word of God 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 223 

has drawn the line between all that is good and all 
that is evil, and pointed us to one, and lifted up its 
voice against the other. The young man will appeal 
in vain to the heathen philosophy, to the philosophy 
(so-called) of our own times, to the example of the 
wisest and best men who have ever lived on earth, 
and find in them all, no perfect model for his imita- 
tion, no perfect guide to lead him on to success and 
happiness. But in God's inspired volume, he will 
have a faultless instructor, an unerring counsellor, an 
unfailing guide. 

2. The Bible teaches the young man his duty to 
his kindred and friends. " Honor thy father and thy 
mother," is one of the ten commandments which were 
given with smoke and flame on Sinai. " Children 
obey your parents," is the reiteration of that sublime 
command, given under the more gentle light of the 
new dispensation. The Old and New Testaments 
alike inculcate the duties which we owe to those who 
have brought us into being, and guided us up through 
infancy and youth to manhood and womanhood. The 
good Book has many a precept, enjoining kindness to 
our aged parents, and unlike all the forms of heathen 
worship, which look upon the aged as worthless to 
society, requires us to love and cherish those whose 
heads are white, and whose limbs are feeble. It 
gives on this subject no uncertain sound, but brands 
the man who forsakes his father and mother, and 



224 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

treats them with cold neglect, or cruel unkindness, as 
one of the most degraded of the race. 

It teaches also the duties which devolve upon the 
husband and the wife. The relations which exist be- 
tween these parties, have been misunderstood in all 
ages. In past times, the best of men have not duly 
appreciated the God-appointed institution of marriage, 
and when it has been entered into, its duties have 
been shamefully disregarded. Everywhere but under 
the light of Christianity, woman has been degraded 
from her true position, denied that standing for which 
she was intended by her Creator, and made to toil 
out her life in ignominious servitude. The Bible and 
volumes founded upon it, are the only books of morals 
which confer upon woman her real rights, and place 
her by the side of man as his equal. The Bible alone 
commands the husband to love the wife, and support 
and cherish her. Other systems of morality, agree 
with the Bible in enjoining obedience upon her, but 
leave the husband to act the tyrant at his will. But 
the Bible while prescribing her duties, makes his 
plain also ; commands him to be kind and affectionate, 
and leave father and mother and cleave to her. 

The Bible is also a guide in the management of 
children. By this book their support is placed upon 
the father, and he who refuses to supply the wants 
of his own family, is said to be worse than an infidel. 
How children should be educated and governed, the 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 225 

rules which should control parental authority, are all 
laid down, and were these rules* obeyed, we should 
not so often be called to bewail the conduct of wicked 
children. If instead of unlimited indulgence, the 
chastening rod was oftener used ; if instead of being 
blinded to all 'the faults, and alive only to the virtues 
of the children, parents would, or could look upon 
them, as others see them, and have an eye open to 
their vices as well as their virtues, they might save 
themselves many an hour of tears and lamentation. 
If instead of abusing their children with blows one 
minute, and smothering them with kisses the next, 
making fearful threatenings one day, and unreason- 
able promises the next, parents would comply with 
the plain and obvious teachings of Scripture,. they 
and their children would be far happier. Many of 
the best and kindest parents among us, are educating 
their children for prisons, almshouses, and scaffolds ; 
bringing them up to manhood with passions unbridled, 
temper ungoverned and ungovernable, and moral 
principles but half cultivated. Could such parents 
look forward to the future, and see what would trans- 
pire after they are laid in the grave, or perhaps be- 
fore that time, could they see their children wretched 
and miserable, on account of the indulgence of youth, 
they would be appaled, and start back as from a 
vision of despair. 

3. The Bible teaches the young man his duties to 
15 



226 THE YOUNG MAN 9 S FRIEND. 

his fellow-men. By the wise decree and arrange 
ment of God, man is made dependent upon his fellow* 
man. The king on his throne is as dependent as the 
slave who kneels at his feet, and the boast of freedom 
and independence, in a strict sense, is idle. Nations 
are dependent upon each other. America and Eu- 
rope, are somewhat dependent upon poor, downcast 
Africa, and superstitious, unenlightened Asia; and the 
nation which should attempt to live without the assist- 
ance of any other nation, would soon fall into barba- 
rism. Much of our food and clothing come from other 
climes, and should we discard all but our own produc 
tions, we should return to the ignorance and degrada- 
tion of our aboriginal inhabitants. Individuals are 
as dependent upon each other, as are nations. If we 
were equal, independent of each other, who would 
manufacture the fabric of which our dresses are made ? 
who would build our houses ? who would brave ocean 
to bring our food from afar ? who w^ould dig our ca- 
nals, build our railroads and steamboats, and provide 
for the wants of the masses of society ? Under such 
a state we should see each man building his own 
house, weaving his own dress, cooking his own food, 
spreading his own blanket, and living entirely for 
himself. The sick would have no watcher, no kind 
hand to smooth the pillow and fan the throbbing tem- 
ples, and the dying would lie ji unburiecl ghastlincss. 
But God in his infinite wisdom has otherwise op 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 227 

dained. He has made us mutually dependent on 
each other, and placed in each human bosom a moni- 
tor, which recognizes this state of things, and impels 
us to fashion our lives accordingly. 

Now the Bible clearly and distinctly makes known 
to us the duty which we owe to others around us. It 
does not leave us in darkness on such a subject, but 
points out the line of conduct which as parts of a great 
brotherhood we are bound to pursue. The Bible 
recognizes each man as a brother and friend. It ad- 
mits certain distinctions of condition, but not of fact ; 
admits a superiority in intellect, in property, in physi- 
cal strength, but not in blood, and bones, and heart ; 
admits a superiority in life, in progress, in thought, 
and being, but not in birth, or in death. One man 
is king, another is a beggar ; one is a philosopher, 
another is an unlettered slave ; one is a man of 
honor, another is a man of ignominy and shame, but 
they are all brothers ; the king, the slave, the philoso- 
pher, the pauper, the man of honor, and the man of 
disgrace, are brothers. This the Bible teaches, and 
on this relationship depend certain duties which the in- 
spired writers have stated for our instruction. To- 
wards all men the great duties of kindness and for- 
bearance are inculcated, and instead of the old thread- 
bare maxim, " Might makes right," we have given us 
the golden rule, " Do unto others, as you would that 
others should do unto you." Inspired with this spirit 



228 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

the early believers in the Bible went everywhere 
preaching the word ; the missionaries of our times 
have labored, preached, suffered, and died, making 
sacrifices for the good of others ; the house of desola- 
tion and poverty, has been cheered, and the tearful 
eye of the mourner, upturned to God ; human society 
has been transformed, and the most desert places of 
the world, made to blossom as the rose, beneath its 
divine influence. Whatever is good and excellent, 
lovely and pure, and heavenly in human intercourse, 
we owe to the gospel of the Son of God. 

4. The Bible teaches the young man his duty to 
government. In the times of the Saviour, the Jewish 
nation was wearing the Roman yoke. The people 
were ruled with an iron hand, and made to pay heavy 
taxes to support the splendor and pomp of the impe- 
rial monarchs. They justly deemed this taxation, 
this iron rule, oppressive, and frequently rebelled and 
raised an insurrection against the tyrants. On one 
occasion, a penny was brought to Christ, bearing the 
image and device of Rome. " Is it lawful to give 
tribute to Caesar, or not ?" they asked. The reply 
of Christ is full of wisdom, prudence, and consistency. 
" Bender unto Caesar, those things that are Caesar's, 
and unto God the things that are God's." 

He here plainly inculcates the duty of obedience to 
the existing government. The Saviour doubtless shared 
in the opinion generally entertained by the Jews, of 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 229 

the injustice of Roman tyranny, but wnile they were 
living under that government, enjoying its protec- 
tion, sharing its honors, they Tere bound to support 
it. While they were protected and defended by the 
armies of Rome, they were bound to obey the laws 
of Rome. In other places, the sacred writers refer 
to the example of Christ, in proof of his obedience to 
law and order. We do not find him inciting insur- 
rections, or raising mobs and armies, but everywhere 
teaching submission to civil authority. 

Prayer for governments and rulers is enjoined upon 
all Christians, and the great duties of man as a citi- 
zen are recognized throughout the whole inspired 
word. A distinguished writer* upon this subject 
says: "When men unite in the establishment of a 
government, they mutually promise, in all their rela- 
tions with each other, to yield obedience to certain 
fundamental principles. The object of these princi- 
ples is, to define and limit the power of the magistracy, 
and to prescribe the manner in which this power shall 
be exerted. The enunciation of these principles 
forms what is called a constitution. This being once 
established, it binds all, and it protects all. It is a 
solemn and mutual contract between every individual 
on the one part, and the whole community on the 
other part. Upon the fulfilment of this contract, de- 
pends the freedom of every individual, and the secu 

* President Wayland. 



230 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRII^D. 

rity of his rights, whether civil or religious. We can 
neither assume powers not conferred upon us by this 
instrument, nor refuse to carry its provisions into prac- 
tice, either ourselves or by our agents, without a vio- 
lation of our solemn obligations. It matters not how 
overpowering the majority by whom the outrage is 
committed, nor how small the minority whose rights 
are infringed, nor how elevated the position of the 
functionary by whom the act is performed. It is a 
crime of the deepest dye, and merits and should meet 
the sternest reprobation of every virtuous man. If, 
then, such be the responsibility assumed by every 
citizen of a free government, it surely becomes him 
to understand the provisions of that instrument, by 
which this responsibility is created." 

5. The Bible teaches the young man his duty 
to Crod. There is no other book which authorita- 
tively establishes the principles, on which as the crea- 
tures of God, we are governed. In fact, all we know 
of God with any degree of certainty, is drawn from 
the inspired volume. We may discern something 
from the book of nature, but the inscription is dim, 
and we are liable to make fearful mistakes. The 
whole heathen world have nature in all its most beau- 
tiful forms, and day by day, they study it, but does 
it make them wise ? does it lead them to right re- 
sults ? Not at all. Instead of worshipping the great 
Jehovah, they adore the sun, moon, and stars, and 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 231 

bow in worship before the creature instead of the 
Creator. From nature men may learn that the 
" Great Spirit" is good, but the delightful and truth- 
ful views of Divinity we have, could never be learned 
from the singing bird or the waving forest. High 
mountains, broad plains, and sandy deserts, have no 
voice to tell of Him who made them, beyond the bare 
fact of his power and might. 

But the Bible reveals God in his true character, as 
the Father, Saviour, and Sanctifier of his people. It 
also marks out the duty of man, proclaims the neces- 
sity of unqualified submission, and having proved him 
a sinner, demands his acquiescence in the way of sal- 
vation through a crucified substitute. 

The first great duty which is revealed, we find to 
be, full and perfect obedience to the law of God. 
This is required on every pa^e of the sacred statute- 
book, and man is under obligation to give exact and 
impartial conformance to the decrees of the high 
chancery of the universe. Obedience or death, is 
written on every provision of the law of Moses, as 
with a pen of fire. 

The second duty to God consists in entire submis- 
sion to all the dispensations of divine providence. 
These are sometimes adverse and dark. We fail to 
behold in them, the wisdom or the goodness of the 
Being who directs and controls them. As they come 
upon us, one by one, we are apt to forget the charao 



232 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

ter of Him who has dealt with us, in such an aw- 
ful manner. But the Bible enjoins implicit sub* 
mission to these solemn exhibitions of the divine 
character. It shows us how good God is, even in 
the midst of our sorrows ; how kindness is blended 
with the blow which falls upon the wayward child 
of earth. 

" God movies in a mysterious way, 
His wonders to perform ; 
He plants His footsteps in the sea, 
And rides upon the storm." 

Directed by this book, the mourner will ascend the 
mount of vision, and look forth upon the ( glorious 
scene which faith presents. His little sorrow will lie 
at his feet, while he, with uncomplaining voice, lifts 
up his heart to Him, 

" Who doeth all things well." 

The third great duty to God, is faith in his Son. 
Perfect obedience is required, but never has been 
given in one single instance by mere human beings. 
Christ alone is sinless on the records of a sinful world. 
All others are involved in the great transgression. 
Hence faith in a crucified Saviour has been enjoined, 
and the nature and object of this faith are declared 
nowhere else. The wisest of the ancients, never 
thought of such a mode of saving sinners, and had the 
world been without a revelation from God, the great 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 233 

idea contained in the cross, would never have been 
known. 

From the brief, hasty, imperfect view, which I have 
given of the Bible, as a book delineating the duties 
of men, we see its value and importance. Without it, 
man would have been enveloped in gross darkness, 
but now he stands in the sunlight of the gospel. The 
young man who makes the Bible the guide of his 
youth, need not mistake any path of duty and safety. 
That blessed book will teach him to be honest, tem- 
perate, frugal, industrious, truthful, and pious. It 
will make him a good citizen, a faithful friend, a 
prudent counsellor, a wise law-maker, a benevolent 
philanthropist, a steadfast, humble, faithful Christian. 
From the Bible as a guide in all matters of duty, we 
turn to the same book, 

II. AS A PERFECT GUIDE IN ALL CASES OF DAN- 
GER. Age has experience. The man of hoary head 
and bending form, has seen much of life. He has 
had dealings with the stern realities which gather 
around the pilgrimage of earth, and is, to some ex- 
tent, prepared to grapple with the dangers which 
attend every human existence. But youth is without 
even this narrow and insufficient safeguard. It has 
no experience of its own, and is liable to run into dan- 
ger, as well as mistake the path of duty. Experi- 
ence makes us cautious. The aged approach every 
doubtful object with hesitating steps, and measure the 



234 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

distance before them, ere they advance. But youth 
sees no danger, and fears no disappointment. The 
young man dreams of pleasant fields, sweet flowers, 
gentle streams, green meadows, glittering waterfalls, 
and cloudless days. That fife has deserve, high rock- 
ribbed mountains, deep and dark ravines, quicksands, 
and intricate fastnesses, he does not seem to realize. 

You have seen a picture of some city. It was 
a beautiful engraving, and well proved the skill 
of the artist. In that picture you might have seen 
high towers, gorgeous dwellings, splendid temples, 
long streets well laid out, and rendered beauti- 
ful by waving trees and blooming flowers. Such a 
picture makes an impression upon your mind, and 
your reflections upon that city are of the most plea- 
sant character. Years roll on and you visit the 
place, and find yourself sadly disappointed. The 
artist had presented all that was beautiful, and con- 
cealed all that was hateful and odious. True, all 
that he had represented on his picture is there, 
and more besides. The tall stately spire, surmount- 
ing an elegant temple is there; but when the sun 
goes down, that tapering finger casts its shadow along 
a narrow, filthy street, in which the plague would be 
ashamed to make its home, or the swine to roam. 
The massive tower is there ; but it has none of the 
beauty with which the skill of the artist adorned it 
The long streets are there, and they are very long 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 235 

but instead of beauty appeal s deformity. All is noise 
and confusion, and the traveler turns from it to his 
own quiet home. 

Young people look at the picture of life, and see ill 
its beauties, while defects are concealed, and conse- 
quently when they go forth and gaze upon reality, 
they are disappointed as much as is the traveler 
while visiting the city of which I have spoken. At a 
distance all is grand and goiT^ous as the picture of a 
nation's capitol, but when we enter the winding ave- 
nues of society, we find them as odious and dan- 
gerous as the winding, crime-frequented lanes and 
streets of some of the most depraved cities. The 
disappointment which ensues, causes thousands to be- 
come vicious and dissolute. They find dangers where 
they only dreamed of safety, and axe bewildered and 
amazed. The Bible, if carefully studied, and strictly 
obeyed, will prove a safeguard against all such dan- 
gers, and lead the young man through fife, with no 
loss of character or happiness. 

" It is the polar star 

That guides the pilgrim's way- 
Directs his wanderings from afar 

To realms of endless day ; 
It points the course where'er he roam, 
And safely leads the pilgrim home." 

1. The Bible will save young men from dangerous 
error, These are days of religious error. While sci- 



236 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

ence is advancing, and rendering herself moie secure^ 
while men are settling down on true and sound princi- 
ples, while the laws which control the heaven above, 
and the earth beneath, are becoming better known, 
while scientific truth has few opposers, and error few 
advocates, it is true as strange, that religious errors 
are multiplying, and twining themselves with serpent- 
like subtlety around the affections of the people. 
There is scarcely a doctrine of the Bible which has 
not been denied, and, to some extent, revelation has 
been shorn of its beauty and dignity. From the un- 
blushing infidel, who boldly affirms that the idea of 
God is a fable, the Bible all a lie of practised de- 
ceivers, to the erratic but sincere seeker for truth, 
who, while he believes the Bible, interprets it as he 
understands it, and attempts to narrow down the sub- 
lime objects of faith, to the grasp of human intellect, 
and refuses to admit any truth which is above the 
comprehension of mere human reason. The world is 
full of books teaching doctrines as false as the Bible 
is true ; absurd, as truth is plausible ; dangerous, as 
the way of life is safe. Attracted by the outward 
adornment of error, the young receive as truth that 
wnich the Bible denounces as falsehood, and cling to 
forms of deception, fearfully ruinous to the immortal 
soul. The framers of erroneous dogmas have adapted 
their systems and creeds, to meet and take advantage 
of the weakness and frailty of humanity. They have 



TIIE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 237 

advanced sentiments which appeal to depraved man f 
and bend to his carnal inclinations. They hesitate 
not to say to the vicious and degraded criminal, 
" Thou shalt not surely die." They calm the fears 
of the wanderer from God, and by scattering a few 
artificial flowers in his path, make him believe he is 
on the road to heaven. Their systems are like splen- 
did tombs in groves of cinnamon and orange. 

Not long ago, I saw a splendid sarcophagus in 
a retreat away from the world's noise and confu- 
siom The white marble, the overhanging willow, 
the skilful chiseling, the beautiful inscription, the 
calm tranquillity of the spot, and the mournful asso- 
ciations connected with it, all added melancholy in- 
terest to the resting-place of the dead. So beautiful 
was the external appearance of the charnel-house, 
that an experienced critic would scarce detect the 
slightest fault, and long after he had left the spot, 
the skill of that work of art would linger in the 
memory of the stranger. By and by, a stern and 
swarthy man came to unlock the door, and reveal the 
mystery of that lone, but sacred spot. His face was 
sunburnt, and his arms uncovered. His whole de- 
portment gave evidence that he had been familiar 
and hardened to funereal woe. With a violent move- 
ment he threw open the iron door, and we stood be- 
fore the entrance. Slowly we descended into the 
vault, and found ourselves among the dead. How 



238 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

changed J From the walls the grave sweat was 
oozing forth ; the rough stone floor was covered with 
human bones ; one coffin was filled with dust, and de* 
cayed limbs, another was loathsome with corruption, 
while in a third, reposed the form of one who had just 
been interred, the pale and lifelike corpse of a beau- 
tiful woman. The horrid effluvia, the sight of corrup- 
tion, soon drove us out into the open air, and the door 
was shut. Again we looked upon the beautiful monu- 
ment, and read the lofty inscriptions, but there was 
no beauty left. We had seen the inside of the vault, 
and when we gazed upon the exterior, its chiseled 
form seemed to stand in awful mockery of the sights 
of woe within. 

So with false religion. It is a sarcophagus. The 
hand of some master-workman has been employed 
upon it, and on its front are sublime inscriptions, 
which men love, because they compliment our nature, 
fallen and depraved as it is. But whoso enter eth the 
charnel will find it, not a spacious cathedral, with its 
altar-fire burning, and its sweet choir chanting some 
sacred song, and its worshippers bending in humble 
adoration before the great God, but a house of death, 
whose walls sweat drops of corruption, whose floor is 
covered with its own decayed substances, and whose 
tenants lie in ghastly silence, without spiritual life or 
vigor. 

The religion of the Bible is far different. Its 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 239 

beauty is not seen until we pass the outer wall and 
enter the secret chambers of holiness. To the eye of 
the mere worldling it stands like some frowning castle, 
which has defied the assaults of time and change, and 
in impregnable strength looks down from the moun- 
tain upon the plains below. It appears stern, and 
awful in its might, and at a distance, seems to the 
traveler a huge pile of immovable rocks, amid which, 
could he climb so high, he would find but little to 
arrest his attention or employ his time. But let him 
ascend the hill, let him climb the bare and rugged 
side of the mountain, and as he approaches the vener- 
able structure, its beauty will begin to appear, and 
what from afar seemed great rocks piled together 
without order, now assumes a form of architectural 
beauty and grandeur. Lei him enter the open gate, 
and explore the concealed chambers and halls, and 
he will find himself in the midst of unsurpassed excel- 
lence. As he advances, instead of confusion and de- 
cay, will he see order and life, and each step will re- 
veal to him some form of more dazzling glory than 
the other. The fortress is changed in his estima- 
tion to a gorgeous palace, fit residence for imperial 
monarchs. 

Such being the case, it is wise, it is safe, to make 
the Bible our guide in all matters of sacred truth. 
Coming from God, it admits of no mistakes, and is 
a sure word of prophecy, profitable in all things. 



240 THE YOUNG MAN ? S FRIEND. 

Guided by other books men make fatal errors, and 
plunge headlong to destruction ; guided by this, the 
haven of eternal rest will soon be found. Let me 
then exhort young men to embrace no doctrine which 
this book condemns. Study it for yourselves, and 
take not the opinions of any man, unless you find them 
sustained and revealed by God. The Bible was not 
designed for the scholar alone ; it was written by God 
for common people ; to be understood by common 
people ; and generally the interpretations given by 
common people accord best with the truth as it is in 
Jesus. The great duties which are essential to man's 
salvation are revealed as clear as noon-day, and those 
who mistake them, are blinded by sin, or prejudiced 
by error. Men do not come to so many contradictory 
opinions because they find them in the Bible, but be* 
cause they desert the Bible and wander about aided 
only by the dim lamp of reason. They forsake the 
great fountain, and drink at little turbid streams 
which contain poison, and produce death. 

See you, yon bright sun, casting its rays upon us all ! 
So bright that no human eye can gaze upon it. The 
man would be a fool who should close his windows, 
and shut out the light of day, and make his home 
dark as night, and then light one little taper, in hope 
to read more clearly than by the fight of the " king 
of brightness." So he exhibits his folly, who turns 
from the Bible to find truth in works of human device 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 241 

and origin. They are like the taper to the sun, and 
compared together the difference is as great. 

2. The Bible will save young men from the vices 
of the world. In regard to crime, the Bible speaks 
clearly and with decision, and whoever reads it, will 
be faithfully warned. With this volume in his hands, 
no vicious man can be innocent. The witnesses 
against him are found in the book which lies upon his 
table, and over whose pages he sometimes bends. 
Whatever the crime may be, it is condemned and de- 
nounced, and the severe judgments of God pronounc- 
ed upon it. 

Thus is it with Sabbath-breaking. " Six days shalt 
thou labor, and do all thy work, but the seventh 
day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God." Around 
one seventh part of our time, around the first day, 
God has drawn a distinct line, separating it from 
all other parts of the week. This little space of 
time he has reserved for himself, and enjoined the 
performance of religious duties, and the relinquish- 
ment of all labor. He has declared that they who 
violate the Sabbath shall not prosper, and they who 
profane his sanctuary shall not be innocent. On the 
observance of this day, the Bible is explicit, and no 
man can labor, or give the day to pleasure and dissi- 
pation without fearful guilt. We are taught that Je- 
hovah looks down from heaven with abhorrence upon a 
man, who not satisfied with laboring and striving for 
16 



242 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

gain six days, not content with giving the world sis 
parts of the time, bestows upon.it the seventh also: 
steals the Sabbath from his Maker, and profanes its 
holy hours. If the noise and confusion of earth can 
ever ascend to heaven, what feelings must the angels 
have, a§ on God's day they kneel before Him in 
speechless adoration, while from the towns and cities 
below, comes up the sound of the mechanic's ham- 
mer, and the shout of the pleasure-hunting crowd. 

Should we attend to the instructions of the Bible, 
how much more appropriately would the Sabbath be 
observed. Now too many employ the time in regu- 
lating their amounts, writing letters to friends, read- 
ing books which have no tendency to produce reli- 
gious feelings, and others labor still more, about their 
farms or in their workshops. Experience and obser- 
vation teach us, that this is not only wicked but alto- 
gether unprofitable. I doubt not that many a failure 
is the consequence of book-keeping on God's day; 
many a bill is unpaid because made out on the Sab- 
bath ; many a plan is defeated because formed in for- 
bidden time. God overrules all things, and he will 
defeat all attempts to make money in his own tune, 
and for one dollar which a man gains upon the Sab- 
bath, he will lose ten, at some other time. A dis- 
tinguished lawyer once observed, that he did not dare 
to prepare his briefs on the Sabbath, for as often as 
he tried it, he lost his case during the week. He 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 243 

became convinced that God would not allow his day 
to be abused and violated with impunity, and as a 
matter of selfish policy, deemed it wise to defer all 
labor until Monday. Statements like these corres- 
pond with my own experience, and I have observed 
that Sabbath-labor never receives the Divine blessing, 
and long have I expected to fail in plans of a secular 
nature which may have been formed on God's day. 
He, therefore, who observes the Bible will hallow the 
Sabbath, and love the sanctuary; he will delight 
when it arrives, to devote it to religious pursuits, and 
though others toil on around him, he will rest. 

Thus is it with profanity. " Thou shalt not take 
the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord 
will not hold him guiltless who taketh his name in 
vain." But a moment's thought, will show that pro- 
fanity is awfully prevalent. Some men who stand 
high in the estimation of the world, who have wealth 
and intelligence, seldom hesitate to blaspheme the 
name of Deity. The language of profanity is as com- 
mon as any other expressions, and the name of God 
and of Christ are openly and rudely blasphemed. 
On the floor of our national Congress what is due to 
respectability and manliness, has so far been forgotten, 
that honorable members have been known to utter 
words which would disgrace a hovel of drunkenness. 

From my own observation, and the testimony of 
others, I am led to believe that few vices are more 



2i4 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

common among young men. Persons who would not 
commit some other sins are betrayed into this, and 
practise it frequently. Indeed, so addicted are many 
to the practice, that they do not know when they are 
profane. They swear at times when they are uncon- 
scious of the fact, and often use oaths which they 
would deny having uttered. The Bible condemns 
profanity as wicked and foolish ; brands it with Divine 
displeasure, and positively forbids its use, and he who 
lives according to this book will never become ad- 
dicted to it. There is something monstrous about 
it. To hear a man whose breath is in his nostrils, 
who is crushed before the moth, calling upon God to 
curse himself, or his wife, or his child, or his friend, 
is sad indeed. And yet how many do it every day ! 
And should God answer these requests, w T hat would 
be the result ? How many would descend with oaths 
upon their lips to people the world of darkness and 
despair ? 

Profanity is a useless, vulgar, wicked habit. It 
does no good, and much evil, and the wisdom and 
goodness of God can be seen in its entire prohibition. 
And yet with God against it, with the Bible against 
it, with reason and respectability again it it, it pre- 
vails extensively. It is not uncommon to see some 
brutal fellow, with his team loaded far too heavily, 
and he cursing, and beating his horse with all ven- 
geance. How many a man has been known to curse 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 245 

the sidewalk against which he happens to stumble, 
or the unconscious door-step, against which he falls ? 
How often do w T e hear men wishing their families in 
hell, and calling on God to send them there ? doing 
this too, while they are in perfect good nature. Pro- 
fanity is abhorrent to God, and the Bible calls upon 
all men to forsake it, and all good men will comply 
with its reasonable requirements. Cowper speaks of 
the vice, thus : 

" It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme, 
Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme ! 
Maintain your rank ; vulgarity despise ; 
To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise. 
You would not swear upon the bed of death ; 
Reflect ! your Maker now could stop your breath." 

Thus is it with dishonesty. No book in stronger, 
clearer terms, or with more authority, condemns all 
falsehood, and wrong, than the Bible. " Thou shalt 
not steal" — U A11 liars shall have their part in the 
lake which burneth with fire," are solemn declara- 
tions of the inspired volume, and he who secures 
property, influence, reputation, or anything which 
does not belong to him, in a dishonest manner, it de- 
nounces with great severity. Other books make al 
lowances for certain kinds of dishonest} 7 , practised 
under certain circumstances, but the Bible makes no 
such allowances. They sometimes justify deception 
in trade ; a little stretching rf the truth to make a 



246 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

good purchase or sale ; a little elasticity of conscience 
in cases where pecuniary gain or loss is involved ; 
but the Bible does no such thing. Falsehood is false- 
hood, whether pronounced by priest, physician, or 
civilian. Theft is theft, whether committed by gen- 
teel merchants, or highway robbers. Crime is crime, 
whether the charge be made against the possessor of 
millions, or the tattered wretch who has no claim to 
the earth beneath him, the heavens over him, or the 
air around him. Wrong is wrong ; kings on their 
thrones, warriors at the head of marshalled armies, 
statesmen in a nation's senate, fair women with jew- 
eled fingers and flowing curls, sires and sons, mothers 
and maidens, cannot make wrong, right. There are 
certain immutable principles which God cannot change 
without reversing his whole nature, and these are 
among them. Hence, the Bible demands right doing 
of all men, and condemns wrong in unmeasured terms, 
and the young man, who has made that book the 
light of his path, and the guide of his youth will do 
right. There may be a momentary profit in doing 
wrong ; a present good in dishonesty, but he who re- 
veres, loves, and obeys the Bible, will not dt) it, 
though a fortune would be gained by it. He knows 
as he believes the good book, that the curse of hea- 
ven will rest upon the head of him who departs from 
rectitude, and though he may prosper for awhile he 
will ultimately fall. 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 247 

Thus is it with immorality. This vice is clearly 
and plainly delineated, and its awful enormity ex- 
posed. No shade of the horrid crime has been left 
untouched by the sacred penmen, and the most blind- 
ed worshipper of the world, cannot fail to see it, in 
its true colors. The novice cannot deceive himself, or 
be deceived by others, if he will look into the perfect 
law of liberty, and whoso plea(|eth ignorance is guilty 
not only for the crime, but for the very ignorance 
which he deems his excuse. Nor does the Bible 
merely forbid this vice ; it goes further and holds it 
up to the derision of all virtuous men ; it makes it 
look hideous and ghastly ; clothes it in robes of death ; 
and suspends over the head of the guilty one, its fear- 
ful penalties. Its requirements, are no half-way ones. 
They demand perfect purity of deed, word, and 
thought ; they require stainless character. And well 
that it should be so. A book of morals should draw 
the line with unerring distinctness, so that none can 
cross it without feeling that he is on forbidden ground. 
Did Scripture leave all these matters vague and un- 
certain, we should be like men standing where four 
roads meet, not knowing which one to take, or, like 
a man on the ocean, without a compass, in a starless 
night. Thanks to God ! he has not left us in dark- 
ness. A pillar of fire by night, and a cloud by day, 
move along the pathway of man, and if he follows 
that pillar of fire and cloud, he will reach the land of 
promise. 



248 THK YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

3. The Bible "will save young men from misery. 
Man is immortal ; he will live forever. A few years 
of his existence are to be spent on the shores of time ; 
the remainder, the countless ages of immortality are 
to be spent beyond the grave. Now it is the aim of 
man to be happy in time and in eternity. All wisli 
to be happy, though some pursue the road to wretch- 
edness. The Bible tells us how we may avoid misery 
and secure happiness ; it marks out the lin^ of con- 
duct in, this life, that we may be happy h^re and 
hereafter. To be happy in this life, it shows us the 
necessity of being virtuous. Crime is attended even 
in this life with punishment, and no vicious maa will 
long escape the consequences. 

The drunkard is punished; he is miserable. His 
crime brings countless evils on his head, and involves 
him in shame and disgrace. He suffers intensely 
when the effect of intoxication has passed away, and 
his sober moments return. He then feels that " the 
way of the transgressor is hard," and sighs to escape 
from the chains of vice. He feels the sting, and in 
this life, has awful foretastes of the second death. 

The gambler is miserable. His conscience will di& 
turb him, and when away from his boon companions, 
he will hear the voice of some starving wife and child, 
whose bread he has stolen away. H-) must live in 
the midst of excitement to drown the voices which 
whisper in his ears such awful words. He dares not 



TKB BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 249 

be alone, for spectre forms gather around him, and 
sometimes mock him, and feeling for his throbbing 
heart, shake it in their iron grasp. 

The sensualist is miserable. " There is no peace 
to the wicked, saith my God," and until a man's con- 
science is entirely seared he will have no rest in 
crime. Now the Bible informs us, that to avoid the 
consequences of crime, we must avoid the crime itself. 
Misery is the result of crime, and he is unwise who 
expects to find one without the other. 

But men are not subject to misery in this life alone. 
The future will be divided into different states and 
conditions, and some will enjoy, and others will suffer. 
The Bible reveals this, and teaches us how we may 
avoid sorrow. Suffering in another world is the con- 
sequence of sin, and some remedy for the evil must 
be found. The Bible presents it. It holds up the 
cross ; shows a crucified Saviour ; gives us an aton- 
ing sacrifice. The burdened sinner might search 
through the w T hole labyrinth of heathen philosophy in 
vain, to find an answer to the question, " How can 
man be just with God ?" Nature, philosophy, science 
and art, are all mute on this awfully important theme. 
They shed not one ray of light upon the subject of 
the soul's salvation. They are dumb wiien man most 
needs instruction, and to every one who asks, " What 
shall I do to be saved ?" they hang their heads in 
silence. 



250 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

From them, we turn to the Bible, and find our 
questions answered, our doubts removed. Man can 
be just with God through the sufferings and death of 
tlio Incarnation ; he may be saved by trusting in the 
cross of Christ. Herein is the Bible most valuable. 
It brings life and immortality to light ; unfolds the 
way of hope ; dissipates the dark shadows which han^ 
over the path of man. The Bible is valuable as a 
book of history, as a book of science, but more valu- 
able as a book of life, teaching how the sinner may 
become a saint, and his name recorded on high. 

"Let all the heathen writers join 
To form one perfect book 5 
Great God, if once compared with thine, 

How mean their writings look ! 
Not the most perfect rules -they give, 
Could show one sin forgiven ; 
s Nor lead a step beyond the grave ; 
But thine conducts to Heaven." 

Did Socrates or Plato ever tell their disciples how 
the stains of guilt could be removed, and peace and 
pardon procured from God ? No, all was dark to 
them, as to the men of Africa now. They conjec- 
tured and surmised, but knew nothing. Death was a 
dark line which separated certainty from uncertainty, 
and when that line was crossed, the philosopher could 
go no further. Beyond death, all was darkness. 
But the gospel opens to us the whole matter, and 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 251 

settles at once all the doubts of infidelity, and the 
jeers of scepticism. What wonder, then, that we 
should love the Bible ? What wonder that we 
should make it the guide of our youth, and the com- 
panion of our old age ? 

" Holy Bible ! Book Divine ! 
Precious treasure ! thou art mine !'' 

Such being the character of the Bible, such a guide 
in duty and in danger, it deserves our attention, and 
as young men, forming our opinions, and striving for 
usefulness, we should often consult its sacred pages. 
Sad mistakes are everywhere else, but' there are 
none here. 

Having considered the Bible as a perfect guide in 
all cases of duty and danger, I will close this dis- 
course with a few remarks which I deem calculated 
to deepen any impression which may have been made 
upon the mind, and inspire a deeper regard for the 
sacred volume. 

1. All good men and many great men, have studied 
it, and loved it. I know good men might have been 
deceived in regard to the contents of the Bible ; they 
may have placed a wrong estimate upon the sacred 
pages. Humanity is fallible, and man is liable to fall 
into many errors. The Koran had its believers, and 
has them now ; the Book of Mormon has its students 
and disciples ; the insane ravings of Paine axe read 



252 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

as truth by many around us, and gross mistakes some- 
times find lodgement in pious minds. I would no! 
therefore urge the attachment of good men to the 
Bible, as a positive argument in favor of its worth, 
but must we not regard such an attachment as strong 
presumptive proof that the book is worthy of our 
study and belief. Should we find the good men of 
this community all arrayed upon the side of a work 
just issued from the press, and the bad men arrayed 
against it, should we not have reason to believe the 
book a good one ? Suppose on one side should be the 
man of virtue, the humble Christian, the good citizen, 
the worshipper of God, the friend of truth ; and on 
the other side, should be marshalled the gambler, the 
profane man, the libertine, the errorist, the despiser 
of God, the enemy of religion, should we not at once 
say, without reading the book, that it must have 
something good about it, else good men would not 
love it, and bad men would not oppose it ? The very 
fact that the two great classes in society, were on op- 
posite sides in relation to it, would to some extent, at- 
test its character. Now what book has been loved more 
fondly by good men, and what book has been more de- 
.cidedly and hostilely opposed by bad men, than the 
Bible. While the just, the lovely, the righteous, have 
endeavored to disseminate its hallowed truth, the 
wicked have endeavored to crush it. To this end, they 
have passed laws, banishing it from great nations; 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 253 

they have burned it publicly in the streets ; they 
have denied its truth, and branded it as a bad pro- 
duction, until the friends and enemies of the book may 
be known, by the standard of their moral characters. 
If we go back in the ages of the world we shall 
hear Moses, speaking thus in the name of God, of the 
small portion of the Bible then in the possession of 
men. " Lay up these my words in your heart, and 
in your soul, and bind them for a sign- upon your 
hand, that they may be as frontlets between your 
eyes. And ye shall teach them to your children, 
speaking of them when thou sittest in thine house, 
and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest 
down, and when thou risest up." God speaking to 
the people through Joshua says, " This book of the 
law, shall not depart out of thy mouth ; but thou shalt 
meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest ob- 
serve to do according to all that is written therein ; 
for then thou shalt make thy w^ay prosperous, and 
thou shalt have good success." David says, " Bless- 
ed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the 
ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sit- 
teth in the seat of the scornful ; but his delight is in 
the law of the Lord, and in his law doth he meditate 
day and night." " The law of the Lord is perfect, 
converting the soul ; the testimony of the Lord is 
sure, making wise the simple." " Thy word is a 
lamp unto my feet, and a light' unto my path/' 



254 THE YOUNG MAN 9 S FRIEND. 

" The entrance of thy word giveth light ; it giyeth 
understanding unto the simple." Isaiah exclaims, 
" To the law, and to the testimony ; if they speak not 
according to this word, it is because there is no light 
in them." Our Saviour says, " Sanctify them through 
thy truth; thy word is truth." Paul says, "I am 
not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; for it is the 
power of God unto salvation, to every one that be- 
lieveth ; to the Jew first, and also to the Gentiles." 
These all speak as they are moved upon by the Holy 
Ghost, and their testimony is valuable, because it ex- 
presses not only the conviction of their own hearts, but 
also because it echoes the teachings of the Almighty. 
Descending from patriarchs, prophets, and apos- 
tles, we find the " Fathers," cultivating the same 
respect and veneration for the Holy Scriptures. 
There is a long catalogue of illustrious names, gath- 
ered from " olden times," who made God's book their 
study and delight. High in the estimation of the 
church and the world, they hesitated not to declare 
their attachment to the blessed volume, which brings 
life and immortality to light. The learned Origen, 
the eloquent Chrysostom, the profound Augustine, 
with Cyprian, Tertullian, Lactantius, Arnobus, and 
all their pious contemporaries, have been found utter- 
ing unequivocal and manly testimony to the value of 
a book, from which they gathered the sublime princi- 
pjes on which all their writings were based. 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 255 

Leaving the " Fathers," we meet with the good 
men of the middle centuries, and find them ^rith the 
Bible in their hands, holding it with firm grasp. 
Even amid the flames of martyrdom, they renounced 
it not, but declared it to be the only sure guide for 
man in all matters of religious faith and practice. 
Jerome of Prague, while the flames curled up 
around him, and the fagots sent forth their burning 
heat, cried out, " Oh, Lord God, thou knowest how I 
have loved thy truth." John Huss, whose ashes 
after he was consumed, were gathered and cast into 
the Rhine, died asserting the value of the Bible as a 
Divine revelation, and ascended to heaven amid the 
smoke of his own funereal pile, singing songs of praise. 
Cranmer, though not without his errors, loved the 
Bible, and died for it, and at last presented unshaken 
firmness, such only as the religion of the cross would 
inspire. Call you for witness, to the. value of the 
Bible ? The martyrs of ten centuries would come ; 
from burning fagots, from bloody blocks, from damp 
cold prisons, from torturing inquisitions, and stand 
before you, a mighty throng, uttering from their 
bloodless lips the testimony of past ages in favor of 
Inspiration. 

Come down to our own times, and where do we 
find the good and great men, tcr whom we are accus- 
tomed to look for words of wisdom ? They regard 
the Bible with veneration, and make ■ its hallowed 



256 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

pages a study. They turn from the statute-book ol 
nations ,*from the various volumes of literature and 
science to the word of God, and find in that, more 
ample themes for contemplation and study. Through 
the long life of the venerable John Q. Adams, he 
made the Bible a daily study, and never allowed a 
day to pass without consulting its sacred teachings, 
and doubtless to the truths of that book, impressed 
upon his mind in early life, he owed much of the 
greatness of his after years, in all his intercourse 
with men, he gave evidence that his mind and heart 
had come into contact with the awful facts revealed 
in the blessed volume, and from those facts, his soul 
had gathered greatness and grandeur. Nor was the 
Sage of Quincy alone in his attachment to the Bible. 
Jackson, Harrison, and Polk died animated and 
cheered by the news of salvation, and departed this 
life, full of hope for another which the gospel present- 
ed before them. Nor are these alone. The records 
of science, art, and literature, abound with great 
names, who have not been ashamed of the religion of 
Jesus. I mention not these instances supposing that 
any glory is reflected upon the Bible by being believ- 
ed by great men. . That is impossible. As the word 
of God, the Bible stands far above all human attempts 
to honor or defame it, and man can no more confer 
glory upon the Bible, than can some little planet 
confer honor upon the bright sun around which it 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 257 

revolves, and from which it receives its brilliant 
illumination. But the fact, that great and good 
men have loved the Bible, is a source of encour- 
agement to others of fewer years, and less cultivated 
minds. 

2. The Bible has claims as a book of history and 
literature. In no other volume can we find an au- 
thentic account of the creation of the world. Histori- 
cal writers do not pretend to take their readers "back 
to the time, when the world rolled up out of nothing- 
ness, and became a certain and beautiful planet, re- 
volving around the sun. They tell us nothing of the 
early wonders of nature, and we are in darkness (as 
far as they are concerned), in reference to the primal 
condition of our race. But the historian of the Bible 
has given us a beautiful, and reasonable account of the 
creation of land and water, bird and beast, man and 
woman. He has taken us along to the flood, to the 
burning of Sodom, to the phenomenon which attended 
the exodus from Egypt, to the history of the Jewish 
tribes, and other great events which profane writers 
have left untouched. Nor does this history consist 
of a mass of improbable statements flung together, to 
win the confidence of the credulous and superstitious. 
There is a beautiful consistency in all the Mosaic 
writings, which wins our confidence by appealing to 
reason and judgment. The worth of the Bible in this 
respect is inestimable, and the Old Testament should 
17 



258 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

have a high place in the library of every student of 
history. 

Should some old volume be found which contained 
the history of the race, back to the times of Abraham 
and his contemporaries, and that volume embodying 
proof of its genuineness ; with what interest would it 
be perused by every literary man ! It would be 
translated into many languages, and edition after edi 
tion would issue rapidly from the press. A book we 
have, which goes back to the beginning ; to the time 
when the earth, now beautified and smiling with flow- 
ers, w r as formless, and covered with darkness. A 
book we have, which furnishes us with a concise his- 
tory of the world from the creation of the first Adam, 
to the death of the second Adam, and gives us an in- 
sight into the habits, customs, and views of men dur- 
ing the progress of four thousand years. 

The Bible also has specimens of logic, scarcely 
equaled ; close argument, which has never been sur- 
passed. The Epistles abound with close reasoning, 
and no one who has read them attentively, can be in- 
sensible to this feature. The arguments of Paul are 
most convincing, and prove beyond controversy, not 
only the strength of his own mind, but also the 
strength and truth of the doctrines he taught. " The 
Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course 
of Nature," by Bishop Butler, has been read by many 
a man, simply because it is an admirable specimen of 



THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 259 

logic, a profound and sublime argument upon the sub- 
ject named. And with equal propriety, may the 
writings of Paul be read with admiration for the force 
and strength of his logic, the beauty of his diction, 
and the grandeur of his doctrines. 

The Bible also abounds with poetry of the highest 
order. Almost one-third of the volume is poetry of 
sublime character, and no uninspired man, in his most 
lofty flight, ever ascended so high as the monarch-muse, 
and the prophet-poet. There is a peculiar effect pro- 
duced by singing or reading the poetry of the Bible, 
which the poems of uninspired men fail to produce, 
and they who admire the strains of Bryant, Longfel- 
low, Hemans, and Burns, or even the greater poets, 
Shakspeare, Milton, Young, and Pollock, and pass 
by unread the inimitable poems of Isaiah, David, and 
Habakkuk, exhibit but little taste of head or heart. 
The man who claims distinction as a scholar, will not 
fail to be familiar with the classic poets. He will 
know something of Homer, Hesiod, Pindar, Anacreon, 
Euripides, and Sophocles ; and can his education be 
complete without an acquaintance with the poetfjr of 
the Hebrew commonwealth ? Can he study Greek 
and Koman poets and historians, and neglect the 
Bible, the most sublime of all poetry, the most ancient 
of all history ? 

3. The Bible is a divine revelation. In this fact 
consists its strength. We love it for its history and 



260 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 

poetry, for all the truth "which it contains, but if it 
was not a divinely inspired book it would be compara- 
tively worthless. But coming from God, it is clothed 
in robes of divinity. It gives no uncertain sound, 
but has the authority of the infinite Jehovah for all 
its teachings. 

I have now presented the Bible as the young 
man's guide, and in bringing this series of lectures 
to a close, I would urge every one to adopt the 
inspired volume as the light of his pathway, and 
his constant companion. The young man is going 
out to battle with the vices and evils of life. The 
Bible is the sword widch he is to carry w T ith him. If 
he takes worldly wisdom, human systems of salvation, 
man-devised reforms, he will strike with his blunted 
sword upon the sides of unwounded error, in vain. 
But armed with the doctrines of salvation, he will be 
a successful warrior, and meet unharmed the assaults 
of all the foes of God and man. Let then our young 
men gird on this armor and use it well, and never put 
it off, or lay it down, until the battle is fought and the 
vict#y won. 



THE END. 



LIBRARY 





